


Right When I Arrive

by TheAfterglow



Series: Right When I Arrive Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Church Sex, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dirty Talk, Drag Queens, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Gay Bar, Love Letters, Masturbation in Bathroom, Non-Linear Narrative, Original Character(s), Pining, Reunion Sex, Reylo - Freeform, Romance, Smut, Stormpilot for realsies now, indecent proposal, nerd flirting, stormpilot if you squint, trifuckta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 87,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAfterglow/pseuds/TheAfterglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the summer of 1945, Reynata Parker is a "Rosie" living in San Francisco, waiting and wondering if her husband, Ben "Skywalker" Solo will return safely from his mission aboard the USS Finalizer in the Pacific Theater.</p><p>They’d barely known one another when they’d decided to get married. A few weeks, no more. They’d had a week as man and wife before he’d deployed... and she had spent a lot of time staring at her reflection in her dressing-table mirror, wondering what he had possibly seen in a skinny, plain farm girl from Oklahoma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Can't Give You Anything But Love

**Author's Note:**

> This fic began as a love letter to the San Francisco Bay area. I lived there 9 years, and just moved away late this summer.
> 
> ETA: The chapter titles are all songs titles, most of them period-appropriate jazz standards. If you'd like to listen along, I created a [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/tkhebron/playlist/5VzqnhUXI15uJCyc78Sa2A)! Enjoy!

_July 1945, San Francisco._

The fog was thickest in the summer, receding only during the day when she was inside the factory, then billowing back down the hilly streets as she made her way back into the city to her tiny room. The ships entering the Bay sounded their horns constantly, a symphony of coded communication in deep, resonant tones. She lay awake in her bed, listening to the rumbling of the streetcars outside and the alternating notes of the foghorns in the distance, wondering when he’d be back. 

The single photo she had of them was dog-eared from her fingers, she’d stared at it so much in the past two years. He looked stern and a little nervous, his free hand closed in a fist at his side, his other wrapped hesitantly around her slender waist. Her simple, white dress was knee-length, and a small veil of netting from her pillbox hat obscured her right eye looking toward the camera. Her gloved hand rested on his chest under his uniform and she was grinning like a fool. It was like looking at a photograph of strangers.

Rey could never tell if her pictures had made it to him at the front. The few letters she’d received back were frequently open, sections redacted and sometimes even cut out, but she knew their safety was at stake. She could recite them from memory, she'd read them so many times. The ink was smeared in spots where she'd traced the slanting, looping script from his hand, her _husband's_ handwriting. It was strange that they'd been apart far longer than they’d ever been together, but she took comfort they were not the only ones. Jessa's husband had been deployed shortly after Ben, and last they knew, he was headed for islands in the South Pacific.

Surely it couldn’t be long now before Japan surrendered… could it? V-E Day had come and gone several months earlier, and while the shipyards had slowed somewhat, she had not yet been laid off. Her callouses from the rivet gun remained intact, and besides, she needed the money to send home to her family. Uncle Unkar's wheedling tone grated over the sketchy connection to Bakersfield when he called to gripe why she couldn't send any more than she already did, and she suspected he was calling from the local bar. Sometimes she asked herself whether she hadn't married so hastily to give herself a different family to run away to when this whole stupid war was over.

Turning on the small light on her nightstand, she retrieved the scant collection of letters she kept in the back of a book. They were in date order, and she began reading. 

_May 14, 1943_

_My dearest R-- We have left Hawaii three days ago aboard the Finalizer. That territory is a strange, remote paradise. It would be good to return when this is over with you, and fitting that we leave from the place that launched us into this madness. So far, spirits are high, but who knows what will happen when we finally reach [redacted]. The admirals tell us we should be confident, that the Japanese are on the run, but I fear we may be underestimating our unseen enemy._

_I miss you already, and I hope I am not being too bold to hope you miss me in return. Please give my regards to your family and to (y)our friends there in the city._

_All my love,  
Ben_

This was the first of seven. After two more had arrived with such restrained expressions of his longing, Jessa had grabbed her elbow and practically insisted Rey send him some photos of herself. 

“Look,” Jessa had pointed through the fencing at the pin-ups decorating the noses of the bombers that were waiting for their crews to deploy. “Something like that. Do you have any decent underwear that doesn’t look like you’ve worn in a hundred times? No? Get yourself over to Magnin’s on payday-- you know they carry the fancy stuff from France, right? I’ll help you do your makeup, Jack left his camera with me, and you can send Ben something to make life worth living.”

Rey still blushed to think about it. He’d never acknowledged the photos, and it made her wonder if the military postal censors hadn’t confiscated them for their own enjoyment. 

She skipped forward several letters.

_November 1944_

_Dear R -- Thank you kindly for your last letter. It lifted me considerably from this darkness that seems to surround us all at this point. Things are looking quite grim, as you may already know. The [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] in a few weeks._

_I feel like I’m being torn apart, and I question whether I have the strength to do what I know I must. I continue to pray to a Maker whose existence I’m not longer sure of that we will be reunited._

_Do vegetables continue to grow in the Victory gardens so late in the season there in SF? It is wonderful to hear that the country has pulled together in support of us here overseas. It becomes easier every day to feel so distant from what we’re told we’re fighting for. If I do not return, I hope you find happiness with another, but I pray that is not the case._

_XOXO, your Ben._

It was this letter that tore at her heart in particular. She had written him a lengthy missive about the goings-on at boarding house where she had taken a room, one populated by other new brides like herself, other fellow Rosies, one run by a tough but caring older woman of indeterminate age and origin known only as Maz. Together they scratched out a tiny Victory garden on the hillside behind the house to grow cabbages, onions, peas, and cucumbers. It seemed meager compared to the fruit and nuts she’d grown up tending, but she’d proven herself to have a green thumb in addition to a good sense of mechanics. She’d felt silly writing this to him, like it couldn’t possibly compare with the excitement and drama of the front, but obviously it had been well received. Still, she worried for his state when he returned; she had heard stories already of men returning from the war irreparably damaged, sometimes not even physically, but seeming to have changed personalities. 

Rey turned on her side and tried not to fret. How would she even know if he’d changed so drastically? They’d barely known one another when they’d decided to get married. A few weeks, no more. They’d had a week as man and wife before he’d deployed, and they’d scarcely left their bed. They had been, much to her relief, very compatible in that way. Her stomach still flip-flopped at the memory of it. He hadn’t asked, and she hadn’t offered, that he wasn’t her first. Besides, he was ten years her senior and rather handsome. It hadn’t escaped her notice how his tall frame turned heads as they strolled down Market Street. She wouldn’t have believed for a second he hadn’t had a special lady or two. She had the sense that his upbringing had afforded him the luxury of a prolonged bachelorhood, whereas her own had made her eager to avoid the trappings of marriage and motherhood as long as possible. She felt eternally grateful that he’d been reasonable about taking precautions against leaving her with his child while he was indefinitely away. 

His final letter was fairly recent. 

_April 21, 1945_

_My darling Reynata-- I hope this letter finds you hale and hearty. We have reached [redacted][redacted] and have been here for some time now. We are given to understand the fighting is nearly over in Europe, but no such progress seems to be on the horizon here in the Pacific. The Japanese are proving a fierce opponent, and I am struck that they are not unlike us Americans in their isolationist national identity._

_I hope you can accept my apologies if my last letter was too fatalistic -- I long to be back by your side. My mother is a pacifist and begged me not to enlist, but I could not stand by as our country was attacked. Hopefully she can find it in her heart to forgive me. She will love you as I do, I am sure of it._

_With all my heart, B--._

_P.S. Tell Maz I very much look forward to making her acquaintance. She sounds like quite a character._

She smiled at his postscript, every time. Maz defied characterization: tall for a woman, and perpetually clad in a get-up that followed no rules of gender nor style that Rey could discern. Her ensembles frequently included dresses or modified chongsams over pants, long scarves wound around her neck under her great brush of dark, silvering hair and a thick, gold hoop earring in her single pierced ear like a Gypsy fortuneteller. She was given to addressing her tenants with endearments like _sweetheart_ and _honey_ and _darling_ and Rey, if she were forced to admit it, had grown quite fond of this odd woman. Maz knew a great deal about cultural goings-on that Rey had only heard about in passing: the opera, the theater, and especially Hollywood starlets.

It had been mere weeks after this letter that the Krauts had capitulated. Spontaneous applause and hoots had broken out during the newsreel announcing what the audience already knew when she and Jessa had taken in the latest Betty Grable picture at the Castro. They had clutched hands like school girls and grinned in the darkness. Their men would be coming home soon.

* * *

The foreman came over the intercom in the factory on August 6th and 9th with terse announcements, interrupting their work: American bombers had dropped weapons of unprecedented strength on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, leveling both. 

After a brief break in work, they’d returned to soldering and riveting with the same fervor as before. These new, nuclear weapons may have been powerful, but they had been preceded by firebombings that had failed to stop the war. It was hard to say if this would have any measurable effect. 

That evening, Rey held the strap overhead, swaying with the shifting, jolting ride in the Shipyard Express. She closed her eyes against her exhaustion, counting off the stops she knew by heart as they trundled back the depot: Eastshore, Albany Village, 9th street, Grayson, San Pablo & Alcatraz, finally the Emeryville depot. Those of them left poured themselves onto a waiting Key car to cross the bridge. The steel girders on the lower deck obscured most of the view, but she could see the great, low fog bank encroaching over the city. 

Dinner was almost always nearly over by the time she finally reached the house, but Maz was kind enough to keep some food back and her place st at the table. 

“How are you, darling,” she purred as Rey slumped in her chair. “Have you heard from Ben recently?”

Rey shook her head, poking at her potato dumpling. She never wanted to see another potato again after the war ended.

Maz smoothed her large, rough hand over the back of Rey’s. “I don’t think it will be long now. Not after two of these atomic bombs. There’s no way they can keep going.”

Rey shrugged. “I just keep thinking of all the people. They weren’t soldiers. You know it was families, and old people, and their animals.”

Maz peered at her and Rey couldn’t help but lift her gaze to meet her landlady’s eyes behind her ridiculously large glasses. She had often wondered if Maz really needed these glasses to see, or if she merely liked the way they looked. Either way, there were unlike any spectacles Rey had ever seen: thick, black frames with very large eye-holes, with an iridescent pearl inlay in the stems. Maz had once told Rey they were Chinese. 

“Rey, you have an old soul,” Maz said gently. “Do you know what I mean by that? You seem like you’ve lived a long time for one so young.”

“I know you always say that,” Rey chuckled, “But really -- I’m no one. My parents were nobody and we came from a nowhere place, to a nowhere place. Have you ever been to Bakersfield? We might as well have stayed in Oklahoma and starved.”

Maz closed her eyes thoughtfully and said, “Don’t say that, my child. I know these have been some hard years, but keep your youthful spirit as long as you can -- you have plenty of time to get old and bitter like me, alright?”

Rey nodded. She knew what was coming. 

“Tell me about your young man,” Maz prompted her for the millionth time.

* * *

Jessa and she were lounging on a blanket in the park the following weekend, listening to jazz concert from the bandshell when they heard the shouts. They sat up, shielding their eyes against the rare summer sun and followed the direction of the noise.

“The war is over, it’s over!” Two young boys were riding bicycles along the main road and yelling to anyone who would listen. “The Japs have surrendered!”

They looked at each other in disbelief before hugging one another so tightly they could barely breathe. 

“Do you think it’s for real?” Jessa sounded like she was holding back tears.

Rey looked over her shoulder and could only nod around the lump in her throat. “Mmmhmm,” she finally managed. 

The entire city seemed to be emptying into the streets as they made their way back home. As they neared City Hall they heard lewd cheers and caught sight of two young women frolicking in the altogether in a fountain to the delight of a sizeable crowd of young men in uniform. They squeezed each other’s elbows tight and grinned as a stranger offered them a drink from a flask.

As the night wore on, Maz forbid Jessa to walk home alone, insisting she stay with them. “Lord knows what young men will get up to tonight,” she said mysteriously. 

Her intuition proved right, and in the morning Maz made them all call in at the factory. There were reports of wide-spread looting and mobs of undeployed sailors roaming the streets, up to no good. The women looked at each other, unsure of whether to try to overrule her, but also slightly afraid for their virtues. 

“Those _beasts_ ,” Maz hissed as she peeked out from behind the lace curtains in her drawing room at the street below. “They had better not try anything here.”

They huddled together listening to the radio and tried not to think about what was happening outside. It struck Rey that the very freedom they were meant to be fighting for now trapped them.

* * *

Three weeks later, an official postcard was waiting on her pillow when she arrived home from work. 

Snatching it up, she read the partial sentences three times through before falling onto her bed, face-first in the pillows to muffle her screams.

_2 Sept ‘45_

_USS Finalizer en route to Honolulu. ETA September 22 in San Francisco USA. I love you. BS._

Her flyboy was coming home to her.


	2. Cheek to Cheek

_April 1943_

Rey could think of a million places she’d rather be, and a million things she’d rather be doing, than accompanying Jessa to a bar. She tucked a loose piece of hair that kept stubbornly sliding from behind her ear into her eye back once more and stared into the cocktail she was nursing. It tasted like death, and it reminded her of her uncle’s breath when he’d come home late at night and wake her and the younger cousins accidentally stumbling around their ramshackle farmhouse. The bar was smoky and crowded, and while Jessa had already danced with several young men, Rey had not been approached.

She was fine with this, in truth. She leaned back with her elbows on the bar and hooked her heel into the footrail of the bar, surveying the scene. Jessa’s long, straight black hair swung around her as her current partner, a tall, slight ginger with a petulant smile, swung her in an approximation of an Irish jig. Jessa threw her head back and laughed like he’d just told her the funniest joke in the world. 

How she envied her roommate: her easy confidence, her brash attitude and outgoing personality. Jessa had grown up somewhere near here, and the sudden influx of strangers looking for work made her giddy with excitement. The musicians wound down the music and struck up a moody, slow number. The floor cleared except for a few couples clinging to each other in displays of barely-concealed lust.

Jessa was still chuckling as she skipped back to Rey, taking a long drag on her own drink before proclaiming, “That boy has a friend you should meet!”

Rey opened her mouth to protest but Jessa cut her off. “Rey, you’ve been standing here scowling all evening, but that apparently works on some men because Brendan’s friend--” she rolled her almond eyes dramatically to their left where Hux had returned to his table-- “has been staring at you like a starving man looks at food since we walked in here. So, why don’t you live a little, and go introduce yourself to him?”

Rey glanced at the corner where the men stood. She had noticed the tall man in a dark suit standing by himself, but had not paid him any attention. Just as she looked, he glanced up and met her gaze for a long second before looking away. Despite herself, her stomach tightened and she had to admit she found him oddly attractive. He had the kind of face one might pass over several times before noticing its reluctant handsomeness. Rey blushed and turned towards the bar, spinning her glass in the ring of condensate as she considered.

“Listen,” Jessa leaned over shoulder-to-shoulder with her. “He’s not… _my_ type, but he’s not bad-looking, and he’s a pilot. They’re shipping out soon, what can it hurt to have a little fun?”

“I just….” Rey didn’t know what she _just_. She just needed to work, just wanted to be alone, just didn’t want to get tied down with entanglements that would keep her in this place. She needed to get back to her family when this was all over. They were counting on her.

“Well, you better _just_ decide because I’m going to powder my nose, and he’s coming over now!” Jessa grabbed her pocketbook with a self-satisfied smile and a wink. “Have fun!” 

“Jessa, please don’t--”

“Hello,” a deep voice said behind her back. “May I keep you company while your friend is away?”

Rey closed her eyes momentarily, gathering her composure before turning to him. She noticed how he hunched slightly in the way tall men often do, and how he was nervously clenching and unclenching his fist at his side. He wore an expression like he was daring her to turn him down so he could sulk back to his table and have the exact same conversation with his friend as she’d just had with Jessa. 

She tipped her chin defiantly up at him. “I’m Reynata. Buy me a drink?”

“What would you like instead,” he eyed her whisky. “You’ve been working on that one for awhile.”

“I’d like to know your name, and perhaps something a bit lighter?” 

“I’m Ben,” he replied, lifting a finger at the bartender. “And you’re getting an Old Pal -- have you ever had one?”

She shook her head wordlessly. It sounded like a fancy cocktail from a city. She didn’t know about such things. Where she came from, people drank things that weren’t meant for human consumption, just to get through the daily wreck of life.

They stood in silence, sipping their drinks. The Old Pal was a light pinkish color, and had a sweet, bitter taste. It was certainly better than the Manhattan she had been choking down. 

“It’s good,” she finally pronounced. “What was the red liquor, I’ve never seen it before.”

“Campari,” he replied. “It’s Italian, I’m a little surprised they still stock it with the war on. It’s a similar drink to a negroni, or a boulevardier. They all have Campari and vermouth.” 

“I’ve never had any of those,” she admitted. “So, you’re a pilot?” 

He nodded and rested his foot on the bar rail. “We’re deploying on a carrier in a couple of weeks. This is just a stop-over for us on the way to the front.”

She nodded in acknowledgement and didn’t say anything. Just then she noticed Jessa slipping out the side door with his redhead friend. Ben followed her gaze and the corner of his mouth quirked downwards in a thinly-veiled smirk. 

“Well, I’m glad to see those two getting on so well,” he cleared his throat and swirled his drink around the ice cube. “Your friend said you two work in the shipyards? How’s that?” 

She was incensed at Jessa for leaving her with a stranger, but she bit her tongue. “It’s fine, and I’m good with mechanical things. I need the money to send to my family at home.”

“Your family…?” Ben repeated carefully, and she could tell he was craning slightly to see if she had a ring on her finger. “Where do they live?”

“Bakersfield-via-Oklahoma,” she said testily and hid her hand in the folds of her skirt, away from his prying eyes. “And where do you come from? It seems like maybe you’re running away from something yourself.” 

He looked hurt momentarily, and she regretted it. Why had she said that? No, she knew why she said it: she was sick of people judging her by where she was from, by how she dressed, because she was a woman. So what if he was tall and had a nice suit and bought her a fancy drink? He had no right to pry.

“I didn’t mean anything by that,” he raised his palms to her in apology. “I’m from Indianapolis, and I enlisted because I thought it was the right thing to do, okay? It’s not what my family wanted for me.”

“I know you didn’t mean anything, no one ever does,” Rey said so quietly he had to lean a little closer in to hear her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. 

He stood quietly beside her for a moment, then drained the rest of his drink. “Look, do you want to get out of here? I’ll make sure you get home safely, do you gals live over in the Albany Village?”

She hesitated. What did it mean, to get out of this place with him? The smoke was giving her a headache. “We live here in the city,” she admitted, “But, I think it might be better if I stayed out a bit longer.” She lifted an eyebrow at him, wondering if he would catch her meaning.

He chuckled knowingly. “C’mon.”

The breeze was stiff off the water, and she shivered slightly under her lightweight coat as they strolled silently along the bay shore. The western span of the Bay Bridge loomed over them, its beacons pulsing in the fog. They needed to at least reach the Ferry Building before she could catch a streetcar. He tucked his long hands in his trouser pockets and bent his head against the wind, only removing one to occasionally flick the ash from his cigarette. He’d offered her a smoke but she’d declined. 

The silence finally got to her and she blurted out, “How’d you learn to fly?”

He glanced at her sideways and took a deep drag before replying, “My father and Uncle Luke taught me. They were both pilots in the Great War, and our family had a couple planes back in Indiana.” 

Rey raised one eyebrow without comment. A _couple_ planes? He said it so nonchalantly, as though this were normal. Airplanes. His family had air _planes_. 

“Just small ones,” he clarified as though he could tell what she was thinking. “Two-seaters, the kind you’d use for crop-dusting or barn-storming.” 

“Oh right, of course,” she said teasingly. “That kind.”

He huffed and flicked his cigarette butt on the sidewalk. “Now you’re making fun of me,” he grumbled, but she could tell he was amused by her. “How’d you learn to fix things?”

She shrugged and slowed her gait even further. The Ferry building was approaching more quickly than she wanted it to. “You have to be able to fix things on a farm,” she said. “My dad disappeared when we arrived in California, and my mom died. My uncle is kind of a drunk, so that left me to take care of our family.” 

He nodded. “That sounds hard,” he offered. She knew he didn’t know what to say. No one ever did. 

“You just get along as best you can,” she said. “What is Indianapolis like?”

“Ah, it’s... green,” he judged. “It’s a green place, and very flat. No hills or water or anything interesting nearby. Good for aviation, though.”

“Greener than San Francisco?” Rey could scarcely believe it. The city was already like a paradise with the expanse of water separating it from the East Bay, with its transplant palm trees, bougainvillea flowers spilling over fences and the intoxicating smell of the flowering jasmine trees at night. And the ocean -- the endless ocean stretching to the west, towards places whose names she’d only seen on maps. 

Ben laughed heartily at her, and the sound of his laugh made her giddy in a way she fought to ignore. “I would say, less exotic than here, but yes, greener.”

She shook her head in silent disbelief. It was too much. 

“Reynata,” he stopped walking. “I would like to make time with you, if you’d like.”

She stopped and turned back to him. The wind was blowing his longish mop of black hair away from his forehead, and she could see he’d straightened up for a moment, steeling himself for whatever her judgement towards him would be. She crossed one leg over the other drunkenly and swayed in the breeze. 

“I’d like that, very much,” she admitted, and she stepped towards him expectantly. “Where would you like to go?”

He smiled then, a real smile, and her heart thudded in her chest. She felt like they already knew each other. It was a strange sensation, like running into someone she knew from home. 

“Well, that would ruin the surprise if I told you,” he said obliquely. “I promise not to kidnap you, alright? Why don’t I ring you tomorrow and we’ll make plans.”

“I’d like that,” she said softly and took another half-step towards him. She looked up at him out of the tops of her eyes and wondered if he would--

He closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his broad, warm palms, looking down at her for a moment. She closed her eyes, but could feel the heat of his face as he leaned into her and their lips met. And…. oh, it felt _good_. Rey felt her knees going a touch soft and he wrapped one arm around her back to keep her upright as he cupped her chin and took his time. She opened her lips in anticipation, but this was nothing like the feverish, sloppy kisses of the boys she’d known at home; he lingered on her mouth like they had all the time in the world and only withdrew after the barest sweep of his tongue against her lower lip. She could feel her heartbeat between her legs as he drew away from her. 

“I don’t want you to miss the last trolley,” he said, as if he hadn’t just set her aflame. “We might have to hurry a little.”

* * *

True to his word, he didn’t abduct her. Instead, he arrived at their apartment promptly, and refused to give her any hints as to where he was taking her out.

“I can’t read your mind, but I think you’ll enjoy it,” he said. “This place is a bit... different.”

Rey tucked her pocket book higher under her arm and hurried to keep pace with his long strides. They were headed northwest out of her neighborhood, towards the Western Addition. She had heard some of the colored women she worked with lived in those parts, but had never visited. She wasn’t entirely sure they would be welcome.

Jessa’s grandparents had lived in this neighborhood as well until quite recently. But her grandfather was Japanese, and he had fled the city with Jessa’s grandmother after hearing the stirrings against immigrant citizens. Her own father had changed the family’s name to Pava from Kavaguchi when Jessa was a baby. She shrugged it off when Rey asked about it. 

“I tell people I’m part Mexican,” she said with a flip of her long hair. “It’s California, you know? Everyone’s part something else.”

The door for the Painted Lady Nightclub on Fillmore was marked only by a stencil of a stylized winking woman’s eyes, the lids heavy with makeup. He paid their entrance fees and they were shown to a table. Rey was struck by how many men were already in the club, and she noticed several of them staring their direction as they maneuvered through the tight tables. 

Except…. They weren’t staring at _them_ , or even at Rey. They were staring at Ben. She wasn’t sure what this meant; she certainly judged her looks to be quite plain, but it seemed to her that these men were openly admiring her companion. There were a few soldiers in the audience in uniform.

As they took their seats she noticed the young man seated at the upright piano, his teeth brilliantly white against his dark skin. He waved to someone in the audience in greeting before cracking his fingers inside-out and striking up a light tune. 

The show was a variety act, a mixture of performers ranging from a young, scantily-clad woman doing a seductive dance with a live snake, to a mildly funny comedian performing jokes with a pencil, to a pair of Russian contortionists. 

The lights went down completely for the main act, and a single shaft of white light shone down on the small stage. The audience shifted around her, restless with anticipation. 

The tallest woman Rey had ever seen stepped slowly into the spotlight, up to the microphone stand. Her silver, floor-length gown was covered in sequins. 

“Good evening, my lovelies,” she addressed them, adjusting the microphone’s height with a satin gloved hand. 

“Go ON, Phasma!” Someone yelled from behind them.

“That’s _Miss_ Phasma to you, darling,” the woman purred in her smoky voice. It was low for a woman’s, but high for a man’s, a mix of contralto and high tenor. Rey was transfixed by the vision of glamour this woman presented: her towering height, sculpted white-blonde hair, the perfect bow of her blood-red lips. She reminded Rey of the black-and-white photos Maz had tucked around the edge of her dressing-table mirror in her master bedroom.

“A little beauty goes a long way to making the world tolerable,” Maz had said mysteriously, caressing Greta Garbo’s luminous cheek.

Miss Phasma nodded at the piano player, and he began playing the opening chords to her song. Rey recognized it immediately as a Gershwin tune, and she thought Miss Phasma was the handsomest woman she might have ever seen.

Rey glanced at Ben and caught him looking at her, his expression unreadable in the dark. 

The singer gently drew the microphone from its stand and began circulating amongst the tables, touching some of the men on their shoulders or even ruffling their hair as she sang. Rey could not help but stare when she stopped at the table next to theirs, and sat one admirer’s lap for a verse:

_Oh, do it again_  
_I may cry no, no, no, no, no, but do it again_  
_My lips just ache to have you take_  
_The kiss that's waiting for you_  
_You know if you do, you won't regret it_  
_Come and get it_

It made her feel silly, but Rey loved the aching romance of this song, she always had. Phasma’s sequins rustled as she stood once more and wound her way back to the stage. It was as she stood that Rey noticed the faint stubble on her cheek, underneath the layers of her stage makeup.

She sat up very straight in her chair for a moment as the observation sunk in and she tried to process it. Phasma was either a very handsome woman…. or perhaps…. a very pretty _man_. Realization dawned on her as she glanced furtively at the men at the tables around her. 

Rey looked at Ben again, a question quirking her lips into a half-smile. Were these men…?

She knew he knew what she was thinking the second he smiled and winked at her before turning his attention back to Phasma. She felt herself blush at the gesture and was glad of the dark. 

“What did you think?” he asked later as they strolled arm-in-arm to a restaurant. 

“It was,” she paused, “Not like any show I’ve ever seen before.” 

His laughter echoed off the buildings they passed, and he slipped his hand into hers.

* * *

They were married at City Hall a week after they visited Playland-at-the-Beach and shared an It’s It, a treat consisting of vanilla ice cream sandwiched between two oatmeal cookies. He had stalked her through the hall of mirrors in the Fun House, with Rey twisting and turning away from distorted images of him thinking she’d escaped him, until she’d walked straight into his embrace unwittingly and he’d scooped her up with her body against his.

“Marry me,” he whispered in the shell of her ear. “I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”

She daydreamed through work the following week, feeling like an automaton in the hours they were forced to spend apart. Jessa gave her a pitying but knowing smile as Rey had dozed off in the sunshine at lunch that Thursday. 

“When does Ben ship out,” Jessa asked again. 

“Saturday afternoon,” Rey replied without opening her eyes. “He’ll be on the _Finalizer_.”

“And... _things_ are alright?” her friend asked, her amusement coloring her voice. Rey could tell she was genuinely interested and not just poking fun as she so often did. Jessa’s cousin was visiting elsewhere and it had been arranged for them to housesit so they could have some privacy, away from the curious ears of their boarding house roommates. 

“Yes, _things_ are better than alright,” Rey confirmed. 

Jessa sighed happily. “Thank the stars, I could never forgive myself if I had set you up with a monster.”

Quite the opposite was the truth, Rey had discovered. She shivered in the sunshine thinking back over the last four nights. Their marital bed had been thoroughly warmed, along with the couch, an armchair, and once, the dining table. They barely spoke, but they learned the language of each other’s bodies with the eagerness of refugees who had abandoned their homelands and wished to assimilate as fast as possible. 

It had surprised her when he’d insisted on using a rubber, pausing in the heat of the moment to make sure she would not become pregnant yet. Her beating heart swelled up in her chest as if to choke her to think he was trying to take care of her long-term. She had played roulette this way with a few suitors before, and realized just how lucky she’d been. She had looked out for herself for so long, she found his simple gesture heartbreaking in its sincerity. 

And this… this was nothing like those quick, rough gropes with farm boys she’d grown up with. Despite his hulking size, her husband possessed a languid grace but a determined nature as a lover. He became her teacher without her asking, and she found herself a more-than-willing pupil. Rey hadn’t had much formal schooling, but she suspected this was what it felt like to be the teacher’s pet.

One night as they lay entwined, she’d asked, “Do you ever have recurring dreams?”

“Mmmmmpf,” Ben shook his head against her neck. “Not really, do you?”

“Just one,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “I used to have trouble sleeping, I guess from hunger, and I would always dream of an island. A tiny, green island surrounded by a huge ocean.”

He lifted his head to peer at her in the dark. The bedroom window faced the street and the streetlight illuminated half his angular face.

“Are you ever afraid,” he asked suddenly. 

“Of….what? Are you?”

“Of not living up to expectations, I guess,” he seemed at a loss to explain himself. “That I’m not going to be as good at this as my father and my uncle were. What if I disappoint our family.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she pulled him into a kiss to make him forget this talk.

* * *

Saturday finally dawned and they lingered in bed until well after the sun had risen. The sky remained overcast, but they could see spots of blue to the east where the marine cloud layer was breaking up.

They dressed reluctantly, Ben in his uniform and Rey in a navy blue dress with large white buttons that had ropes and anchors engraved on them. They lugged his giant duffel bag to Fort Mason, which was a scene of chaos as the crew of the _Finalizer_ reported for deployment. Families of all types thronged around them, hugging and crying and fussing at their departing menfolk. Some of the women dabbed their eyes gracefully with embroidered handkerchiefs, while others wept openly and still others remained stoic, their eyes pinched with the strain of holding their emotions in check. Rey wasn’t sure which model of grief would overcome her when she had to let go of his hand. 

Through the crowd, Rey noticed a young man standing alone, off to the side with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. He wore a leather jacket like the ones the pilots had, but it was a little big for his frame, and he didn’t seem to have a bag with him as though he was deploying himself. He turned their way, craning to see over the crowd as though he was looking for someone. 

A jolt of recognition shot through her and she slowed their forward progress with her hand on his arm. “Ben, isn’t that the piano player from the Painted Lady over there?”

Ben followed her gaze to where the man stood, then looked down at her. “I believe you’re right,” he confirmed. “Looks like he’s got someone leaving today as well.”

“Someone leaving? _Oh_ ….” Rey said softly, catching his meaning. “You think?”

Ben shrugged. “It takes all kinds, Rey. We’ve all got to pitch in if we want to win this.” They were nearing the point in the intake line where they’d be forced to separate, and he stiffened his arm in her embrace to slow their progress. Rey felt a lump begin to form in her throat and she bowed her head, tilting it against his upper arm beside her. 

“It’ll be alright,” he said, his voice low. “You’ll write me, won’t you?”

“You know I will,” she choked out. “And you’d better write, too.”

“Tell Jessa and Jack goodbye for me,” he said as he put his arm around her shoulders. “You gals need to take care of each other.”

She nodded, no longer trusting her voice not to crack. The tears were welling up in her eyes and she refused to look at him like this, lest he remember her this way. It was too cruel after the unexpected joy of the past few weeks. She felt him glance down at her and she turned her head away to thumb away a tear on the offside. 

“Rey,” he said, guiding them to the side so others could pass. “I _have_ to go, it’s my duty. But, I know you’re going to be fine here, alright? Give me a kiss?” He curled a finger under her chin and gently forced her face upwards. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together in a trembling line to keep from sobbing audibly. So she was _that_ kind of crier, she learned. 

His lips met her forehead first before he moved down to her mouth, and she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down as near to her as he would bend. A sarcastic soldier behind them in line hooted and clapped, and a few others tossed out lewd taunts at them. 

“Get a room!”

“I’m for women’s suffrage-- can she stow away in my bunk?”

Rey ignored them and opened her eyes to memorize his face when he pulled away. 

“I love you,” he said quietly. 

She traced her fingers over his cheek and down to the point of his chin before dropping her hand to his chest.

“I know,” she replied. 

With that, he released her, shouldered his bag, and turned away from her back into the line. He was past the checkpoint and striding away to the ship in an instant, not looking back for her.

“You got a kiss for me too, sweetheart?” The seaman who had started the ruckus behind them was at her shoulder now. Out of the corner of her eye she caught his wandering gaze and the obscene hand gesture he was making at her. 

She backed away a few steps and shot him daggers. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, you animal? That’s my _husband_!”

A howl of laughter went up from his companions as they teased him. “You just got _told_ , young man! She ain’t your missus, you best step off!”

“Sorry,” the seaman muttered. “I didn’t know you were married.” 

Rey simply shook her head, but she saw him for what he was: a young, stupid kid who was scared, one who’d never been away from home and one who talked big to cover up his fear and ignorance in front of his friends. She knew exactly his type. It rankled her to have to toss out Ben’s existence as a reason for this lunk to leave her in peace, but some men only respected women as other men’s property. 

Turning away from the fray, she walked away a few strides to see if she could still see Ben. She caught sight of him waiting in line for the gangway that lead up to the deck of the ship, already talking and introducing himself to the men around him. He was easy to spot, towering over the others and still hunching ever so slightly. She waited until he was up the gangway and onto the ship, disappearing from her view, before she wrapped her sweater tighter around her and turned for home.

She noticed the piano player was still keeping vigil as she hiked up the hill towards the streetcar stop. He saw her looking as she passed him, and he gave her a wistful smile before looking back towards the ship once more.

They all had to make sacrifices, she reminded herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss Phasma wishes everyone a happy Pride!! :) Her song is George Gershwin's Do It Again (1922), which was famously sung by Judy Garland during her Judy does Carnegie Hall concert in the 1961. 
> 
> While the Painted Lady is fictional, Playland-at-the-Beach is not, and it was the sole seller of It's It until its closure in the 1970's. It's Its are available now elsewhere.


	3. Do It Again

_September 1945_

For Rey, the days leading up to his appointed arrival were a special kind of agony. She had detoured past the docks at least 3 times, rechecking the bulletin board repeatedly to confirm the expected time of the _Finalizer_ ’s arrival in San Francisco. Having finally been laid off at the shipyards as of the fifteenth provided her with an extra amount of time to consider what it might be like to finally have him home again. 

“Do you think you’re ready?” Jessa had asked as they’d strolled arm-in-arm down Market Street, past the shop windows of places they couldn’t afford now that their factory salaries were gone. “Do you think it will be different?”

Rey honestly didn’t know what to expect, but she knew this level of anticipation was making her crazy. She had cleaned her room nearly every day, refolded every pair of socks and drawers and rearranged them in her dresser, polished each of her two pairs of shoes-- twice-- and had spent a lot of time staring at her reflection in her dressing-table mirror, wondering what he had possibly seen in a skinny, plain farm girl from Oklahoma. 

The morning of his homecoming was beautiful: the fog receded early in the fall, and the sun warmed the city to what approached cooler spring days in Bakersfield. The dryness of the autumn air had a distinct, nearly tangible scent, an amalgam of eucalyptus leaves, dry grass and salt air. 

She was hardly the only spouse who boarded the electric bus bound for Fort Mason that morning, and she smiled shyly at the other women going to greet their men. The final transmission from the _Finalizer_ had them arriving at 11:30AM, but when she arrived at 10:30, the dock was already a scene of joyous chaos. 

The first shouts went up at 11:02 when someone with binoculars managed to spot the ship just beyond the Golden Gate. A low murmur ran through the crowd as they watched the giant, black-hulled carrier vessel make its way steadily beneath the orange bridge and round Alcatraz on the north side to approach the landing from the calmer side of the Bay. As it drew close, they could see the crew standing on the deck, waving frantically back to them. 

Rey’s heart was in her throat, and she overcame her self-consciousness at this open display of emotion to wave right along with her neighboring wives. Their men were _home_.

The deboarding process took longer than it seemed possible. It was hard not to be jealous of the women around her whose sailors and airmen were first on the ground, hugging and kissing like they were making up for lost time. The crowd began to thin somewhat as others made their way elsewhere, but a steady stream of men were still making their way down the gangway. Most of them still looked too young to have been so far from home, doing such serious things, but the mood was one of jovial, masculine cameraderie. Rey crossed one leg anxiously over the other, arms crossed in front of her. Where was he?

She turned her back on the _Finalizer_ for a moment, looking behind her in case he had passed her accidentally in the fray. His black head was nowhere to be seen. 

“Rey?!” His voice sounded behind her.

She whipped back to see him cutting quickly through the crowd, his long legs making short work of the distance between them. His bag was slung over his shoulder and his smile made her weak as she sprinted towards him.

“Ben!” she shrieked and leapt at him. He caught her sloppily and dropped his bag, pulling her into a bear hug, then lifting her up so that her toes barely scraped the ground. “Oh my God, you’re home, I missed you so ba--”

He cut her off with a deep kiss, opening his lips immediately to eagerly receive her invading tongue. He tasted of faintly of coffee, cigarettes and wonderfully like _him_.

“Hey Skywalker,” a voice interrupted them, “You gonna introduce me to your lady?”

He set her gently down and they saw the speaker. He was a young, handsome man who was quite a bit shorter than Ben, but who wore the same airman’s uniform. 

“Poe Dameron,” he stuck out his hand to Rey. “Ben’s told me a lot about you. It’s a pleasure.”

“Reynata Solo,” Rey said hesitantly. She still wasn’t used to giving his last name, even after two years. “Welcome home.”

Dameron kissed the back of her hand and smiled wolfishly as she blushed awkwardly. “Thank you. And you-- you are lucky man, Ben Solo, a very lucky man.”

Ben cleared his throat and rasped, “Alright, cut it out, you old smoothie. Are you waiting for someone?”

“I’m meeting my someone elsewhere,” Dameron said mysteriously. “In fact, I should probably head out that way. Keep in touch, you hear?”

“You know it,” Ben pumped Dameron’s hand heartily. “Stay safe out there, okay?”

“You too -- we’ll always find our way home, right?” With that, he turned and started away, up the hill. 

Ben turned back to her and drew her close to him once more. “It’s so good to see you, Rey. I thought about you constantly.” 

“Are you ready to get home?” she asked. She didn’t want to rush him, but she was also could not ignore the fact that every brush of him against her was making her ache for more. 

“So ready,” he confirmed. “I can’t wait to meet your roommates.” 

They set off towards the city, hand in hand.

* * *

Maz was waiting in the parlor with a few of her housemates when they got home, and much to their surprise, had a gift waiting for them. 

“It’s the least we could do,” Maz explained, pressing a key into Rey’s hand. “It’s for the Palace. We all pooled our pennies and got you kids a room for tonight and tomorrow. Consider it a second honeymoon, alright darlings?”

Despite their protestations, Maz shooed them to Rey’s room to gather her things and get moving. 

“I’m sure you would like to be alone,” Maz winked at Ben, who smiled sheepishly at her landlady. 

“Thank you,” Ben said sincerely, shaking Maz’s hand for what seemed like ages. “This really is very thoughtful of you all.”

“Alright, go on you lovebirds,” Maz said, making fluttering gestures with her bejweled hands. A forearm full of carved bone bracelets clacked over the sleeve of her long, dark shirt.. 

Rey lead him to her room on the second floor at the rear of the house, quietly pointing out this or that feature as they went. Her head was spinning from the unexpected generosity and the implications of uninterrupted privacy with Ben. 

“Well, this is me,” she said quietly, opening the door to her small room. It seemed very small indeed with the two of them in it. 

He closed the door gently behind them and stood hesitantly in the entryway as she set about stuffing her essentials into a small bag. She hadn’t forseen this, hadn’t thought past what might they might do the second they were alone. That, she had thought about too many times to count. She hadn’t anticipated she would be so _nervous_ , though, and his silence now was only making her more so. 

“I can’t believe they did that,” Rey stammered, “It really was too nice of them? I mean, this room is fine, it’s just a little small and it’s not terribly private, but it’s been perfectly fine for the last couple years.”

He glanced around the room, his hands in his pants pockets. “It’s nice,” he said politely. 

She turned away to her dressing table and gathered her hairbrush, hairpins and the few cosmetic items she owned. She was so distracted by his nearness that she could barely remember what she needed to fix herself each day. A wave of self-awareness of how insignificant this probably seemed to him gripped her and she backpedaled, “I’m sure it’s nothing like being on a ship, though. This probably seems like luxury in comparison.”

“Rey.” The seriousness of his tone caused her to straighten up and turn towards him. “Come here,” he ordered, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

She placed her toiletries bag back on the table and walked the few steps to her husband. Ben placed his hand on her hip, caressed the jut of her hipbone with his thumb, and pushed her back against the wall. Rey felt slightly dizzy with anticipation and she leaned her head back, eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he said, his dulcet voice going straight to her middle, and her sex throbbed in time with her heart. She opened her eyes and heaved a shuddering sigh. Did he mean to have her right here, or...? 

Without a word, he grabbed the hem of her dress on one side and held it bunched in his fingers at her hip. The cool air was welcome on her bare thighs. She’d done without stockings so long now, the thought of wearing them made her itch. He leaned back to admire her, and his upper lip curled into a near-grimace that reminded her of nothing so much as a trapped, wild dog. He made a low noise of appreciation in his throat before meeting her eyes again. He cupped his hand between her legs and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Were you good while I was gone, Rey?” 

Rey turned her head away and gasped as she felt his fingers move aside her panties to trace her opening. She was so aroused her underthings were damp between her legs, and she squeaked to feel one of his fingers breach her suddenly. “Tell me,” he sucked at her earlobe. “Did you wait for me?” 

Was this a game? Surely he knew she’d been faithful. “And what if I wasn’t good,” she whispered, looking coquettishly at him through her lashes. “What would you do?”

He frowned and _humpfed_ , working his finger inside her. She saw him bite his lip in the periphery of her vision and she could tell he was fighting his arousal at the thought of what he might do. “I would…..” he trailed off and shook his head as though he were thinking better of this. “I suppose I would have to punish you.”

She grabbed his wrist and forced his invading hand away from her, bringing it to her lips. She stared at him evenly as she licked her salty, slick juice from his finger. 

“Get your things,” he growled and straightened up. “Let’s get out of here already.”

* * *

The ride to the Palace Hotel in the streetcar seemed interminable. Rey had never entered the building, but she had heard it was terribly elegant inside. 

It did not disappoint, but they didn’t linger at the Winter Court to admire the chandeliers dripping with cut crystal and gilt gold. Ben pushed her slightly ahead of him to the elevators with his hand on the small of her back, and Rey found she had to take an extra step every few strides to keep up with him. 

“What floor, please?” The elevator attendant was barely younger than she, and his cap sat low across his forehead, shielding his expression from them.

“Fourth floor,” she replied, working her thumb against the keychain in her hand. It was a heavy, brass fob attached to a single key for room 447. The mirrored elevator seemed to creep between the floors, creaking as they took on more passengers and they stepped politely to the back of the car to make room. She snuggled closer to Ben to allow others to fit and had to suppress a gasp as he cupped the globe of her rear in his large hand and give her a firm squeeze. She shifted her weight between her feet and concentrated on breathing deeply to ignore how wanton this made her. Her sex fairly ached from the continuous arousal she had been experiencing since she’d gotten up that morning, and the pressure of his fingers were telegraphing his need clearly to her.

The elevator emptied out somewhat at three, then it was their stop. 

“Enjoy your stay, and welcome home, sir, ” the attendant said, and she would’ve sworn she saw him wink at Ben. His uniform had gotten them random compliments and acknowledgements on the streetcar as well. 

They followed the signs on the wall to the wing where their room was, and her fingers were trembling so that she could barely get the key in the lock. He pressed himself to her back, and she could feel his hard length against her back. He reached around her and undid the top button of her dress, sliding his hand indiscreetly in to grope her breast under her brassiere. 

“I want you so bad, Rey,” he whispered into her hair. 

She finally managed the lock and stumbled forwards through the door, breaking his hold for a second before he was on her again. They dropped their things and he grabbed her around her waist, guiding them in a kind of fumbling dance towards the bed. He lifted her enough to catch her knees on the edge of mattress and she bent forward out of instinct. 

He shoved her dress up and off her hips to her waist, and she took down her panties with one hand. He took a half-step back, looking at her and she waited in agony for him to say or do something. 

“Jesus, Rey,” he whispered hoarsely, “Just look at your perfect cunt.”

He had never used such coarse language to her before, but he spoke the word with the reverence of a benediction. Something twisted in her belly at it. 

“Ben,” she breathed, “Just…. fuck me, please... _please_?” The desperation and crudeness of her demand shocked her, but a second later she felt him thumb the lips of her entrance indelicately open and heard the zipper of his pants go down. She whimpered with anticipation as he rubbed the head of his swollen cock against her, wetting himself. This was the part her fantasies had erased with time: the visceral roughness of being intimate with another person, and it shocked her how much she had _missed_ it. 

She fairly yelped as he suddenly curled his fingers around her hips and pushed himself into her all at once. He hissed through his teeth and she clawed the bedspread, trying to struggle away from the pressure that seemed to nearly cleave her. He held her easily in his grip, and she had no choice but to take his length as he began to thrust against her.

She leaned her forehead on her arms in front of her and closed her eyes, breathing shallowly as he took her. Each rough snap of his hips was hitting a spot high inside her that made her feel dizzy with the need to climax. 

Ben released his hold on her left hip to reach up and grab her by the shoulder, arching her back like a taut bow as he pulled her back to all fours. The change in angle only heightened the sensation she was feeling and she moaned without thinking.

This broke him, and her stern, stoic husband unleashed a torrent of babble that made her flush, punctuated between words by the wet slap of their bodies. 

“Ahhhhh, _fuck_ , how is your little pussy so fucking _tight_ , it’s like you’ve never spread your legs before? Jesus _Christ_ , Rey -- touch yourself,” he commanded, “I can’t last like this.”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” she hissed as her hand went to her clit as it had so many times since they’d been apart. “Teach me how you like to fuck me, I swear I’ll behave, I swear I’ve been good for you, don’t stop!”

Without warning, he released her shoulder and let her fall forward as he came with a strangled shout, holding her tight to him and she shuddered as her own finish overtook her in waves. The sensation was so strong her low belly contracted involuntarily and she was dimly aware of his moan as her cunt spasmed around him. It felt exquisite: the aching fullness of him inside her, stretching her, making her whole in a way she had not felt in _years_. Rey collapsed against the bed but kept rubbing, never wanting the feeling to end, and she whimpered as tiny aftershocks continued to wrack her body. She could hear how hard he was breathing and his low belly moved softly against her rear as he bent over her, steadying himself with a hand on the bed. Her ears were ringing when she finally withdrew her hand from between her legs. 

He straightened up and withdrew from her far more carefully, caressing the curve of her ass as she laid limply on her stomach on the bed. He lay down on his back next to her without removing his clothes. His cheeks had a distinct flush and he still had the feral look in his eye she’d detected back in her room. They studied each other carefully without touching for a long time, silence stretching between them. 

He broke first. “I see you’re wearing your fancy drawers,” he grinned. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you wearing those…. And not wearing them.” 

A smile curled her lips. “So you did get my photos,” she said. “I wondered.” 

He looked away, almost bashful, and simply said, “Yes, they made it.”

She grinned sheepishly. “It was Jessa’s idea.” 

“ _That_ girl,” he brayed with laughter. “I’ll have to thank her!”

She giggled and drew closer to him, nestling her cheek against his shoulder under his arm. He squeezed her closer to him and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “What did you think of Maz?” she asked. “She’s something, right?”

Ben was silent, but she could feel his smile against her head and silent laughter began to shake his torso. She lifted her head curiously, and found him pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand and practically giggling. 

“What? What’s so funny?”

He looked at her, his smile toothy and wide. “Rey…. do you remember that club I took you to, the one where Miss Phasma was singing?”

“Of course,” she said. “What about it?”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, like he was waiting for her to catch onto something.

“What, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean,” she said honestly. 

“Kid, your landlady….. is a land _lord_ ,” Ben said slowly, caressing her cheek. “Maz is a man who passes as a woman.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” Rey demanded, propping herself up on one elbow now to stare at him. “Just because she’s eccentric doesn’t mean she deserves to be called a man. So what if she likes to wear dresses over pants, it’s cold here most of the year!”

“I’m not saying it’s _bad_ ,” Ben chuckled, “I just can’t believe you never noticed, you seem to be a good judge of people. She has an Adam’s apple, why do you think she wears her scarf like that when it’s nice weather?”

She simply stared at him, suddenly realizing how the puzzle that was Maz fit together. Maz had the biggest, strongest hands she’d ever seen on a woman. And frequently wore outfits that obscured her figure, head-to-toe. And only had one pierced ear. 

“Oh….” she said softly. “I honestly had no idea…”

Ben sat up and said, “I’m going to take a bath, if you want to join me.” 

Rey stared at his ass as he walked into the bathroom and she followed a moment after she heard the water start running. She didn’t feel the need to bathe herself, but she certainly wouldn’t mind watching him do so. 

By the time she reached the bathroom door, he had shucked his shirt and was taking off his pants. She was busy admiring the expanse of his back and his long legs when a flash of something caught her eye in his reflection in the mirror. 

“Ben Solo, is that… a tattoo?!” Rey was incredulous, but when he turned to face her, it was plain as day on his chest, over his heart: a black outline of a hexagon surrounding a circle with diagonal points facing into the center. Rey could not help but think of an animal’s bared teeth as she looked at it. “What _is_ that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter.... kind of got away from me, and I decided to split it in two. I suck at scoping my writing, but... YAY, more lemons on the way!! :D


	4. How Long Has This Been Going On?

Ben covered the marking with his opposite hand, looking as though he were about to swear an oath to her. “We all got them,” he said simply. “Everyone in our squadron.”

Rey stepped over and gently removed his hand, tracing it with her fingertip. She could feel the scars at the edges of the marking raised ever so slightly. She could not believe he had done this. 

“It’s a navigation compass,” he explained, as if that somehow made it better that he was marked for life. “Our motto is, ‘The First Order will always find its way home.’”

“Your bath is ready,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “Don’t let it overflow.” She turned away to return to the bedroom, but Ben caught her upper arm. 

“Keep me company,” he implored her. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”

Rey pulled her arm loose and sighed. She had known things would be different when he returned, that _he_ might be different, but she had not anticipated this permanent evidence of their separation. She heard him slip off his undershorts and slide into the tub. She took up a perch on the toilet without meeting his eyes, drawing her knees to her chest under her skirt. The porcelain of the seat was cold against her bare rear, and she could feel the sticky wetness of his spend on her upper thighs. They’d been so careful before he’d left, she’d forgotten this happened afterwards. 

He submerged himself once, wetting his hair and rubbing shampoo into it. 

“You have no idea how strange it feels to be with you in the bathroom instead of with 20 other men,” he chuckled, oblivious to her sudden shift in mood. “It would probably be pretty rotten if you were shy, or needed a lot of privacy.” 

“Probably,” she said dryly. She had never known any privacy from her family before she’d left to come to San Francisco. Her herd of grubby cousins had been omnipresent, and their herd instinct kept them from feeling any remorse at interrupting any alone time she managed to eek out for herself. She knew they were both only children, but his upbringing had been far more precious than hers. 

He slipped beneath the water again with a splash, rinsing his hair. He propped one leg up against the end of the tub and rested his head back against the tiled backsplash. She could scarcely glance at him without staring at his chest, and chose instead to stare at neutral territory like his calves. 

But…. oh, looking at his calves lead to looking at his knees, then his muscular thighs, and then his--

She stared at her fingernails, permanently stained with grease from assembling the machines of war, as though they were far more interesting. 

“Are you alright,” he asked gently.

Rey shrugged. She felt a bit angry for perhaps the first time ever at his presence. There hadn’t been enough time to have a lover’s quarrel before he’d left, and she hated to ruin his homecoming with it now. “I just can’t believe you got a tattoo,” she muttered. 

“Rey,” he pleaded with her, reaching up with his wet hand to caress her forearm where she hugged her knees. “It’s not that important, it is? Lots of men did it… it’s a way of showing you belong.”

She knew she was being petty, and if she were honest, perhaps she was just generally a bit touchy because of her cycle. But something about the design haunted her, even when she wasn’t looking at it. She got the same sensation of vague dread when she saw the Nazi swastika. For the moment, the slippery feeling of his fingers massaging her arm were making of thinking of other things he could be touching. She grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his, meeting his eyes and she held her breath to see the hunger returning to his face. 

He stood suddenly, splashing water out of the tub onto the marble floor, then scooping her up to him without drying off. She wound her arm around the back of his neck and he hitched her higher to carry her back to the bed, his arm beneath her knees. 

Ben deposited her delicately on the bed covers and crawled up over her body, dripping onto her as she lay back and drew him down to kiss her. Droplets of water from his hair rained on her face, wetting the pillow beside her head as she ran her palms over his cheeks and pulled him to her by his ears. He hadn’t shaved for several days, and the stubble of his lips and chin rubbed her slightly raw. Not that she minded-- the sensation sent a bolt of arousal straight from her lips to her middle, and she rubbed her legs together beneath him. He lapped at her mouth in playful strokes, slowly unbuttoning her dress with a free hand until she lay nearly naked under him. He explored her with his broad, damp hands, touching and squeezing her tits through her bra and smoothing them over the flat of her belly. Each time he dipped beneath her navel to palm her soft, barely-perceptible paunch below it, she arched her hips off the bed to meet him.

How could she need him so badly when they had just…? She felt a bit sore from their earlier coupling but wanted him inside her again worse than she felt she’d wanted _anything_.

She trailed her hand down his torso to see if he was ready again, and he shifted playfully away from her. 

“That’s not fair,” he teased. “You aren’t even naked yet.” He raised one eyebrow in challenge. “Take off your top,” he said. “Show me your pretty tits.”

He sank back on his haunches to allow her room to wriggle out of her dress and he stole a kiss on her jawline as she wrestled with the stiff clasp behind her back. He worked his way down to her neck and sucked at her shoulder, slipping one strap off as she drew her arms from the brassiere and lay back down. 

It was a black, sheer number the saleswoman had pressed into her reluctant hands at Magnin's. The fabric was too delicate to be practical for everyday wear, and Rey wondered at the use of such underwear that left so little to the imagination. Even in the dim light of the trying room, her rosy-brown buds had been clearly visible through the lace.

"This one has been _terribly_ popular with women here on the homefront," the saleswoman had gushed as she adjusted the straps to fit Rey's slender frame. "I'm sure you can see why!"

She could certainly see why now as her husband gazed down at her with a look that she could only characterize as lust-tinged reverence. He covered her left breast with his hand, rubbing in lazy circles and Rey hissed to feel her nipple pebbling to a hard point under it. Her other shrank in anticipation of the same treatment, and Ben tested it with the barest scrape of his teeth followed by a greedy swipe of his tongue. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she arched her back against the bed, up against his face. 

He gave her nipple a firm pinch with his fingers, and she whined with pleasure. She wanted him in her again, could feel her own want beginning to wet her swollen, aching slit. He broke his hold on her breast to suck at her mouth again, invading her mouth now with an authority she did not remember him exercising on her before. Her chest was slightly swollen and tender with the impending arrival of her monthly time, and the heightened sensation only made her more desperate to hasten their union. 

He finally broke their kiss and looked down at her, his lust beginning to hood his dark eyes. “Rey,” he said softly, trailing his fingers up and down the stretch of her inner thighs between her knees and the dark triangle of her sex. He looked down at her lower body and she knew what he intended before he moved down and nudged her knees apart with his hands. “Please?”

Rey swallowed, knowing what he wanted, and her heart was in her throat. “Of course,” she whispered. 

Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he could hear it as he settled on his stomach and elbows between her legs, pushing her thighs wider apart to make room for him. His breath felt hot on her as he looked at her up close, and her stomach twinged with nerves. 

In truth, she had found it very hard to relax enough to enjoy this the few times they’d tried it. She could tell it excited him, but to her, it was more something to be endured. She couldn’t explain it in any rational way: his fingers and mouth felt good on her elsewhere, she even begged him to put his fingers inside her, so why not _this_? Nor did she mind sucking _his_ …. She stiffened to feel his tongue trace her opening and closed her eyes. If she could’ve gotten away with covering her face with her hands, she would have. She clenched her eyes and gripped the bed covers instead in sweaty fists. 

He moaned in appreciation and the vibration from his throat tickled her mound. “You look so beautiful,” Ben muttered, dipping one fingertip curiously into her. “I’ve imagined this so many times, you have no idea.” He thumbed her pussy lips apart and gave her a firm lick, his tongue breaching her slightly. She jerked her hips against his face without meaning to, and he placed one hand on her low belly to steady her. 

Rey whimpered, more a shaky exhalation than a vocal protest. She turned her head to the side and stared at the striped wallpaper. He set about licking her more vigorously, not seeming to care that his own seed was likely comingled with her arousal. A thousand things raced through her head, distracting her from how good it felt for him to do this: _did other people...? Had he… with anyone else? Had her parents…? Would Jessa laugh if she knew…? Did she taste alright?_

As if he could feel her contemplating all this, he came up for air and looked up her body. “Rey, is this alright? We don’t have to, if you don’t--” 

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “I want…. I want to try to like it.” As if to prove it, she ran her thumb over his slick lips and adjusted her leg to drape over his shoulder. 

He looked skeptical, but returned to his work a moment later. She closed her eyes more gently, and tried to concentrate on the feeling, to stay with it and ride it even when she longed to tell him to stop. She ran through a few cycles of beginning to relax into his earnest ministrations before tensing again and he would ease up his pressure a bit. She was riding one such tiny crest when he changed his attack, using his fingers to spread open her hood and suck directly at the tiny bundle of nerves she knew to be the center of her womanly pleasure. He had never done quite _this_ before, and she gasped at the intense twinge that emanated from the contact of his tongue and teeth. He sucked at her the same way she would’ve done his manhood, and she found herself losing her self-consciousness. She could feel him smiling against her as she writhed beneath him, and she braced her heel against his shoulder, pushing against him and bucking up to his face eagerly. 

Her feigned resistance seemed to awaken the beast in him, and he growled against her, laving harder and reaching between her legs to invade her with his fingers. He curled his first two fingers into her, and she stammered, “Oh, oh my god, do that more, yes, like that!” He sucked hard now at her clit and she was dizzy with desire. She lolled her head from one side to the other, pushing against him with her foot and finally, reaching down to grab him by the hair.

She was close, so close and then the thought occurred to use her free hand. She rubbed her own tits hard, twisting her nipple until she winced and then, she _shattered_. She cried out as though in pain, some nonsense syllables that came on like a spiritual fit, and yet he did not stop. As she crested from this, he forced a third finger into her tight opening, and Rey felt a tingling wash of pleasure that seemed to radiate from her tailbone, one that made her legs go limp and her breathing ragged. She convulsed around his fingers, and he finally lifted his face from her to watch her come harder than she could ever recall before. Tidal waves of enjoyment wracked her, rolling from her back to her front, radiating out from his fingers and her clit and twisting her face into a silent mask of need fulfilled. She felt she was on the verge of passing out and exclaimed, for lack of anything more coherent, “ _Fuck_ , Ben!”

He wiped his face quickly on his hand and eased his fingers from her dripping cunt. She felt him moving over her and when she opened her sleepy eyes, he was practically face-to-face with her. 

“Was that tolerable?” his voice was tinged with amusement. 

“How did… when did you learn to do it... like that?” she was curious. She smoothed her fingertips over his clever mouth and he nipped at them playfully. He dipped his head to kiss her on her sternum, between her breasts before he answered. 

“People talk,” he said simply. “We had a lot of time to talk about things.”

She blushed as she thought of the lewd way some women talked in the shipyard locker room when there were no men around to hear. “I bet.”

He lowered his body gently to hers and she could feel his erection pressing against her thigh. He felt as hard as steel, encased in a hot satin sheath. He rubbed against her hopefully, and she knew he wanted her again. She bit her lower lip and nodded her permission at him. 

“Rey,” he said, “Do you still want to be... careful?” 

She cupped his cheek. “Yes, but, it’s not very likely right now. It’s almost my time,” she explained. “And… I want to feel you.”

Without another word, he reached between them to be sure to hit her in the right spot. She inhaled sharply at how easily he slipped into her body, his hard length parting her nether lips. He groaned in appreciation as she drew her knees up to give him easier access, hooking her ankles together behind his back. She lazily draped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, just taking in the feeling of having him here, whole in her arms and taking his pleasure from her after so long. 

He sucked at her earlobe and whispered filthy things against her ear about what he planned to do to her, and Rey turned her head away as though it didn’t excite her beyond reason. Her sex was beginning to throb with want again, and she dared open her eyes to glance at him.

She caught sight of the marking on his chest once more, forcing herself to acknowledge that this was part of who he was now. Instinctively, she placed her hand over it, observing as it peeked out from between her fingers as he moved over her. He noticed it, and removed her hand to stretch her arm away, pinning her hand over her head under his. She had no choice but to see it, and she briefly entertained the notion that he was actually a stranger, another man altogether who had assumed her husband’s identity and come back to take over his life. He braced against her and arched into her with a sharp, deep thrust, and she again caught a flash of a more assertive man than the one who had left her. She supposed he had been unnecessarily delicate with her before, perhaps wrongly assuming this was entirely new to her. Their lovemaking been wholly pleasurable, but she could not deny there was something deeply arousing about the slightly rough way he was handling her now. She squeezed her knees against his ribcage and hissed, “Harder!”

He looked startled for a second before a dark expression overcame his features and he began to fuck her considerably harder, grinding his hips in a semi-circle at the apex of each thrust. Rey could feel the familiar twinge in her low belly that signaled her impending climax, and she canted her hips up to meet his onslaught. He released her arm and she was caught in the cage of his long body. After several more deep thrusts that seemed enough to break her in two, Ben straightened up momentarily to twist her hips to one side, her knees stacked on one another. She squeaked at the change in angle, but she didn’t have any time to protest before he continued pumping into her. It felt terribly tight this way, almost on the verge of painful, but Rey knew her pleasure was not so different from that. She had asked for this, and now, he was giving it to her. 

His rhythm was slowing and becoming uneven, and he wore an expression of a man who was barely holding himself together. His eyes were closed and his breathing was ragged, open-mouthed. He was practically on all fours over her, and her eyes were again drawn to the tattoo. It looked like a gaping, saw-toothed mouth, and in her near-ecstasy, Rey flashed on a folk tale she’d once heard about men fearing women because their bodies contained teeth. She squeezed her eyes tightly and she was overcome again. 

Ben thrust one last, punishingly hard time against her before collapsing partway onto her. “You have no idea how many times I’ve pictured this,” he panted, “Fuck, I love you, you know that, right?!” Rey squirmed beneath him, managing to turn partway onto her stomach and scissoring her legs apart to allow him to finish deep inside her. He continued to strain against her pert, upturned bottom, pressing her hips against the bed and squeezing her breast that was nearest to him. She pressed her cheek to the mattress and tried to calm her own breathing enough to answer him. Spasms of pleasure continued to wrack her lower body, and she again felt the foreign tingling at the very base of her spine. 

“Ahhhh, Maker, I missed you, I missed _this_ so badly,” she stammered, shifting again as he moved to lay behind her, cupping her against the long curve of his body. He sucked lazily at her neck and guided her hand between her legs with his on top to feel where they were still joined. They were both sticky with sweat, but his hair was still damp from the tub and she was faintly aware of the smell of the hotel soap on his skin. 

The sun had begun to sink low in the sky, and the room was bathed in a hazy glow of late-afternoon light. She nestled comfortably against him, feeling him soften inside her until he finally saw fit to pull out. They lay in amicable silence, returning to themselves.

* * *

“You know I lived for your letters,” he said suddenly after a long silence. “I thought of them as being a map, pieces of a map to get back here to you when the war was over.”

She twisted her shoulders back to look at him, curling her arm up to ruffle his hair. “I’m glad,” she replied. “I have all the ones from you, too. I read them so many times I know them by heart, just wishing there were more.” 

“More?” he seemed incredulous. “How many did you get?”

“Seven…?”

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her in disbelief. “Sweetheart, I wrote you almost every week-- you should’ve gotten about a hundred twenty!? How can that be?”

She hadn’t cried since he’d arrived; there hadn’t been time or occasion with the rush of meeting him and getting to the hotel and their becoming reacquainted. But now, after it all, she couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in her eyes and a silent sob wracked her body. She turned towards him and buried her head against his chest, crying like a child at the realization that he’d tried so desperately to keep in touch with her, and that forces out of their control had conspired to make her believe he’d forgotten her, that he was hurt or even dead and no one had thought to tell her. She was sure he had wondered the same things about her. 

“Shhhhhh, it’s okay,” he smoothed her hair and his hands over her. “I feel it, too.”

She shifted onto her back and draped her legs over his knees, letting him curl around her. Rey wiped her cheeks, but the tears, years’ worth tears of pent-up anxiety, fear, hope, and love continued to leak from her eyes. “Were you ever scared?” she asked, trying to shift the focus off her own weakness.

“Sometimes,” he said softly. “Of course I was, we all were.”

They lay silently entwined until she detected a shift in his breathing, and her glance at him confirmed what she already knew: he had fallen asleep in her arms. She heaved one last, shuddering sigh, and closed her eyes to rest. 


	5. Summertime

Rey opened the window a crack, letting in the cool night breeze before she lit one of his cigarettes. The first drag burned in her lungs but she managed to suppress her urge to cough, lest she wake him. Ben had been sleeping for several hours, and although Rey felt sleepy, she’d tossed and turned until deciding to take a quick bath herself.

It had done nothing to calm the twisting, coiled feeling that still lingered in her low belly.

She flicked the ash of the cigarette into an ashtray, and stared out at the city. The autumn night sky was full of the stars they couldn’t see for most of the true summer months, and most of the city had gone dark aside from a few windows she could see here and there. She wondered if Jessa was sleeping, and what Maz was doing right now. The revelation that Maz was a man made her lips curl into a half-smile again. 

His scent was strong in the collar of his undershirt that she’d put on, and she breathed it in deeply with her cheek pressed against her collarbone. Her body felt dewey from the bath, and she stood with her legs crossed as she smoked absently. She glanced back over her shoulder when he made a small sound, but he was still firmly asleep. Half the cigarette was left, but she’d decided she’d had enough for now. She ground it out carefully so that one of them might return to it later. The lean years had taught her never to waste.

The realization that only a fraction of his letters had made it to her had broken what felt left of her heart, and now she throbbed with the urge to put it back together again now that he was here. While it was true she had been relatively innocent in the ways of men and women, he was not the only one who had overheard things. She’d heard enough to make her curious, and the tables seemed ripe for turning now that he was home. She carefully closed the window and made her way back to bed, laying on top of the sheet beside him. Ben stirred, then rolled onto his back and settled again. Rey traced her fingers delicately over his thigh through the sheet. He felt so warm and firm, and her heart beat a little faster to hear his breath hitch. He moved restlessly, but continued sleeping. 

She felt the hot tension beginning to build between her thighs again, and she slipped her hand under the sheet now to trace down his side and over the point of his hip. Glancing at his face, she tiptoed her fingers across his low belly until they brushed his sleeping manhood. 

It was still incomprehensible to her, how different he felt in repose than in the heat of passion. She circled her thumb and forefinger around his cock, pulling her hand up until she reached the rim of his head, then repeating. She propped herself up on her elbow to observe him when he woke from her attentions. 

It wasn’t long before his body began to respond, and she felt the slippery wetness beginning to leak from her own body as she felt his cock begin to twitch and stiffen in her hand. She rubbed her open palm firmly on his shaft, occasionally brushing her thumb over the velvet-soft head, feeling the small cleft on the underside. She knew this to be particularly sensitive, and he had often praised how her clever tongue had tickled him there. He was nearly fully aroused now, and he filled her hand so that her fingertips just overlapped her thumb. It made her flush to recall how wide Jessa’s eyes had gotten when they’d compared notes about this. Apparently her husband was on the… larger end of this spectrum. 

Rey bit her lip in anticipation, waiting for Ben to wake. She had something very particular in mind, and was set that he would not deny her. If he was allowed to rut her face-first into the bed, she was allowed to try this in return. She increased the pressure of her hand, tugging more firmly upwards now on his stiffened member. 

“Mmmmmpf,” he murmured and covered her hand with his, stilling it. “Are you awake?”

She only increased the pressure of her hand in response. 

“I see you are,” she could hear his smile as much as see it in the dark. 

She shifted onto her knees beside him and drew back the sheet, pressing her hand to his shoulder to still him when he tried to sit up. “Lay back,” she ordered. 

Ben grinned and raised his palms in submission, propping his head up on one crooked elbow. “Yes, ma’am.”

She threw her leg over him and settled into the saddle of his torso, hissing to feel the head of his cock brushing her slippery entrance. Rey drew the hem of his shirt over her head and splayed her fingers over his broad chest. 

This felt good, she found, looking down at him and working her hips back and forth as though she was riding. She could tell by the way he was gazing lustfully up at her that he longed to be inside her, bucking his hips up to meet her. The fingers of his free hand played over her inner thighs, her stomach and up to tweak her nipples where they hardened in the cooler night air. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted a baby right now,” he smiled up at her. “Twins run in my family, maybe we should be more careful.”

“Twins….?” Rey repeated, slowing her rhythm a touch. “Do twins run in families?” 

Ben chuckled gently. “That’s what I’ve always heard. My mother and uncle Luke are twins.” He reached behind her and lazily squeezed her ass until she gasped at how good it felt.

“Would you still make love to me if I were carrying your babies,” she asked, twisting her hips on his and pushing him back as he tried to move so as to thrust into her. “Even when my belly gets big?”

Her husband closed his eyes and huffed at the thought of it. “You look… _amazing_ now that you’ve been eating more… I think you’d be irresistible with a baby in you. I might have to keep you in bed for days.” 

A smile that she could not fight curled her lips as an unbidden mental picture of him pounding her from behind to avoid her swollen stomach flashed through her mind. She leaned forwards and sucked greedily at his mouth, biting his lower lip in warning as he tried to gently slide into her when she was distracted. She could feel the head of his swollen manhood almost begin to part her, but she kept moving just out of his grasp for his taking. She let his cock slide up behind her several times, into the cleft of her rear before taking him back between her thighs, delighting in the ticklish, forbidden feeling of him against that part of her. 

In truth, this belonged among the first whispers she’d heard about how men and women might fit together, and what had once burned her ears with embarrassment now set her aflame with curiosity. She had heard that very devout girls, usually the Catholic girls who migrated north from Mexico to work the fields at peak harvest season, would sometimes allow this to preserve their virtues for their future husbands, and to prevent themselves from becoming pregnant. It seemed… counterintuitive at best, like something more intimate being used to protect against something so natural, so right it could not be helped. She was not envious of those girls whose fathers and priests took such an unnatural interest in controlling them that they resorted to this instead of marital relations. She knew her own family were nominally Christian, but she couldn't recall the last time she had set foot in a church. Once God had turned his back on them as her mother wasted away from an illness none of them had the money to fight, Rey did not see the purpose of spending part of her lone day of rest sitting in an unpadded wood pew, listening to sermons given by a man whose wages were paid by the meager offerings demanded of the congregants. The trees and creeks had become her church on long walks through the countryside, a canopy of blossoming jacarandas as beautiful as any cathedral above her head and the ice-cold water from springs swollen with melted snowfall runoff substituting as her communion.

But now that they were married, what was to stop them from doing this anyway? She had thought of it many times in his absence, wondering what it might feel like. 

She straightened up a bit and closed her eyes, trying to line him up in the right spot by feel but not knowing exactly how it ought to go. She pressed back against him tentatively where she thought it might work. He was slick with her arousal, so it seemed like it should just--

“Rey?” His quizzical tone was enough to stop her short, even if his hand that shot to her hip weren’t. “You…. you know about that?”

She felt deeply, suddenly hesitant. “Uh huh,” she mumbled. Was he disgusted with her? “Um…. don’t you?” 

Ben looked at her for a moment, a look of complete disbelief crossing his face. He removed his arm from behind his head to hold her still with both hands. “I do, but… I’m just surprised, that’s all.” 

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush hot. She moved to dismount and lay beside him, but he resisted her. “I thought it might be nice to try, we don’t have to--”

“I want to,” he replied quickly, and the heat in his voice twisted her lower stomach with desire. “But… have you…. ever?”

She shook her head vigorously. 

He seemed immediately relieved. “Me neither,” he breathed, rubbing his thumb on her hipbone. “I think…. It’s something we should work up to, you know? Hang on, let me up for a minute.” 

Rey perched expectantly on the edge of the bed, watching as he crossed room and dug around in his bag. She wondered what he was doing, and she shivered as the thrill of doing something new and elicit overcame her. 

Ben returned to the bed with a small metal tube, and sat up propped up against the headboard. 

“What is that,” she asked, watching as he unscrewed the cap and placed it delicately on the nightstand. 

“A lubricant,” he said matter-of-factly. “We all got some,” he explained, squeezing some of the substance onto his fingers and rubbing it around to distribute it. “Ok, as you were, Mrs. Solo.”

She hesitantly straddled him once more, looking at the tube more closely. “It looks like some of it is gone,” she observed, and her heart sank at what she was implying. 

He was so absorbed in what he was doing that it took him a moment to catch her meaning, and he looked up at her sheepishly. “Gone...? It... oh, it’s not like that, Rey -- it just…. It feels nice on your hand, too, you know?”

“Oh!” Rey laughed with surprise and a release of the tension that had built up momentarily. She realized she was trembling a tiny bit as she waited for him to start. 

“C’mere,” he drew her close with an arm around her waist. She looked down at her handsome husband, his face just a bit below hers. Ben reached around her hips with one hand, cupping her behind gently and pulling one cheek a bit away from the other. “Try to relax-- I’ll go slow,” he looked up at her with solemn eagerness.

She nodded, but his advice made her feel anything but relaxed. Her low belly felt like something coiling too tightly inside it, and she started slightly to feel his slippery fingertips brush the tight knot of her ass. She braced against him, her hands on his broad shoulders, and tried to breathe deeply as she realized he was first preparing her, making sure there was enough wetness there before... 

Perhaps this was not so different from what they were used to, after all?

"Have you... thought about doing this... to me? Before now?" Rey was suddenly very curious. 

Ben chuckled and continued rubbing in slow circles, his amusement moving his chest against her torso. "Kid," his deep voice was tinged with a confessional tone, "Men think about putting it _anywhere_ a woman would let them. I would put it in your... ear if you asked me to."

Rey could not help the laugh that escaped her at the thought of this. “I suppose that’s true, huh?” she chuckled, ruffling her fingers through his hair. It was getting longer on the top again, but the sides and back were still cropped fairly short. He leaned in and laid a hungry, open-mouthed kiss that ended with a nip on the span of her neck. Rey shuddered with lust and noticed how eager she was beginning to feel for him to do more than just rub her. She undulated her body against his, pressing her hips back towards his hand. He responded in kind, pressing his hard cock against her stomach. She could not remember him ever feeling so hard as he did right now. 

“I think….” Ben considered, slowing his fingers, “I think maybe we should use a little more of the--”

“Yes,” she interrupted him, reaching for the tube. “Give me your fingers,” she ordered.

His eyes betrayed his amusement as he presented his hand for her attention. She squeezed what seemed like a generous amount of the tube’s contents onto his fingers and nodded approvingly. His fingers now felt dangerously slippery as he resumed his deliberate massaging. Rey could feel her pulse through her entire lower body, thrumming hotly between her legs. Her upper thighs were wet with her arousal, and her clit kept bumping against the head of his manhood as they swayed together in this strange dance. 

“Rey,” he said, and as she turned her attention to answer him, she felt his fingertip slip just inside her without further warning. She gasped the sudden intrusion; it was… an alien, but not an unwelcome sensation. It felt nothing like his fingers in her sex, she found. Her body knew how to process that feeling. She tensed involuntarily, squirming against him with a conflicting urge to escape his invading digit, but also to allow it. 

“Is this alright?” he whispered.

She nodded, eyes closed, and rested her forehead against his. “Mmmmmph,” she finally managed. “Uh huh.” She kept her eyes closed, taking in the feeling of his finger there, gently stretching her and withdrawing, moving gradually deeper inside her. He had long hands, and she knew he was still barely using more than the tip of his finger. It stung very slightly, but she found this oddly pleasurable, and the feeling was beginning to dissipate as he worked his hand against her. 

“How does it feel,” she whispered.

“Tight,” he replied, and she could easily detect the strain in his voice. She was more than aware of his erection straining against her stomach, and she let her fingers play over his head, cupping him in her hand and teasing him. He rewarded her with a firmer poke with his finger, and she hissed to feel the wave of pleasure that traveled up her low spine. 

“Rey,” he sounded hoarse now. “I want to be inside you while we do this… please?” 

Rey shivered with desire at the suggestion, arching her back so that her breasts were unignorable in front of his face. He didn’t hesitate to torture her hardened nipple between his teeth and tongue, latching on and drawing back until she moaned. His hand was more insistent now in her ass and she could feel how he was maneuvering his middle finger to join his first. 

“I want you in me, too,” she replied, adjusting her hips to straddle him just so. 

He pulled her down onto him with his hand on her slender waist, the pressure building agonizingly slowly until she dropped her head back with a hoarse cry. She was in a state of unfulfilled desire that was so close it felt nearly painful. She rocked her pelvis forwards, only to shy away from the dangerous pressure against her clit, but his hand on her rear followed it up with a wave of pleasure that sent her straight back forwards. She see-sawed like this several times before he managed to slip his second finger alongside his first, and she bit her lip against the mounting agony of not being able to climax. It was almost too much: no matter which way she moved, he was there, inside her.

He could not have possibly known this, but she had thought about this numerous times, what it might feel like to be taken this way. She was eternally grateful he could not read her mind, or he would have seen how often she had greedily pictured just this scenario, with one crucial difference. She sensed he was a jealous type, and would never had mentioned this to him for fear of his temper. 

Rey could barely conceive the logistics of it, but she knew it excited her beyond measure to imagine herself between Ben and a man she thought of only as _the stranger_ , each taking their pleasure from her, sometimes individually, but sometimes together as she pictured now. She clenched her eyes shut and imagined the stranger behind her, cupping her breasts and sucking at her neck and ear as he bent her forwards towards Ben to take her this way, as her husband fucked her face to face. 

The fullness she felt from his two fingers inside her at present was not distracting her from this fantasy; in fact, it was making it seem all the more vivid, and she captured his mouth hungrily as she worked her body against him, imagining the anonymous stranger pleasuring her in tandem. Ben reached his hand between them and gave her nipple a hard pinch, drawing a sharp gasp from her. 

“You _love_ this, don’t you?” Ben accused her, but she could see the triumph in his expression. “You filthy girl-- I would never deny you if you asked me to fuck you like this.” 

“You… you love it... too,” she managed to reply before she completely dissolved into a boneless heap of ecstasy. She was dimly aware of how hard he pulled her down against him with his arm around her waist, once… twice… three times before he cried out with his own climax, felt his seed gushing hot into her as his fingers stilled and went limp in her ass. She was dizzy with her own pleasure, and she could tell from the way his arm went slack around her that he was barely in his right mind. Her head lolled back and then to the side as though she had had far too much to drink, and she could feel him panting against her where he rested his forehead against her shoulder. 

They clutched one another for a long time without moving, their breathing uneven and shaking, but slowly calming. Ben eventually raised his head to rest it back against the headboard, gazing at her with unfocused eyes.She gently grasped the sides of his face with her hands, lazily drinking in his full lips as she probed his mouth with her tongue. 

Eventually he withdrew from her, and they lay on their backs for a long time without touching or speaking. He got up at one point to wash up, and returned silently to the bed to curl around her, making a nest of his body that she tucked into without hesitation. 

“Thank you,” she whispered as she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... posts more smut, runs away! I debated whether 3 chapters of reunion smut was overkill, but... I guess not. XD


	6. Autumn in New York

_October 21, 1945_

Rey rested her head against the wall of the train compartment, staring out at the bleak, flat landscape rolling by outside. Most of the trees had begun to shed their leaves in brown piles on the grass, but there were a few rebel holdouts who still held their red, yellow, and even orange decoration against the autumn sky. Despite her overcoat over her lap like a blanket, she shivered as the train trundled slowly through town after sleepy town, most of them no bigger than a handful of shoddy houses with a cement grain silo poking into the sky.

Occasional squalls splattered the broad window with cold rain, and she traced her finger along their trails as the drops eked their way to the frame. It was hard to believe anything grew in the fields that lay fallow outside, the black dirt steaming in places with chunks of upended corn stalks and root systems tilled into it. 

The few short weeks since Ben’s return almost felt like a dream now that she was alone again, and when her seatmates left the compartment to visit the dining car, she allowed herself to close her eyes and let the unshed tears that burned them fall freely, an occasional sob catching her breath. She was too ashamed to cry in front of them, choosing silence and letting them fill in the awkward gaps in conversation with information they supplied themselves that was at best half-right.

* * *

_September 29, 1945_

The landscape became progressively greener once the train crossed the Rockies, and Rey waited each morning to awake to find it had only been a dream. The foreboding flatness of the Plains recalled her childhood in Oklahoma, but this northern route took them through places she whose names she had only memorized during school: Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, and finally across Illinois to Chicago, where they changed trains. The days slid by mostly in a comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional trips to the smoking and dining cars to stretch their legs. 

“So your parents never married?” Rey asked again incredulously. “Your grandparents didn’t mind?”

Ben shrugged and looked out at the endless horizon. “My mother and uncle were orphaned when my grandmother died in childbirth, and their adoptive family were progressives. My grandfather was out of the picture for most of their childhood, and then he died before I was born. You’ll see when you meet them… my mother’s not exactly the marrying type.”

Rey had difficulty picturing the woman whom Ben had described as his mother: at once a fierce, sharp-minded academic who vehemently opposed the war and a warm, caring mother who seemed bonded with her son more strongly than his father. Ben had phoned her from the hotel, and after a long conversation with very little input from his side, it had been decided that they would return to Indiana to meet.

Jessa had tears in her eyes as she hugged Rey tightly and whispered into her hair, “Make Ben bring you back to me, you hear? No one wants to live in Indiana, and I’ll die of loneliness without you.”

Her eyes had glittered with tears as well as she looked at her best friend. For the moment though, Rey was reveling in the adventure of crossing the country. She loved San Francisco, how compact it was with its sharply hilly streets, but she knew there was a great, sprawling wilderness between the oceans. 

They found new and creative ways to contort themselves in the sleeping berth they shared, swallowing each other’s sighs and moans to keep from disturbing the elderly couple who shared their compartment. The old man’s torpid snores likely disguised any noises they could not suppress, and the woman seemed hard of hearing. Rey felt very self-conscious at first, being in such close proximity to them, but after they had remarked for what seemed like the millionth time on how well they’d slept with the motion of the train lulling them to sleep, Rey had to bite her lip to keep a straight face. 

One afternoon, Ben had casually thrown his coat across his lap and sighed very deeply as he read the same page of his book again. 

“Are you cold, dear?” she asked in the primmest tone she could muster. 

“A little,” he replied, meeting her gaze for a long moment before squinting out the window. 

“Well, _I’m_ freezing!” Ada declared suddenly. “Arthur, shall we go get a coffee? I can’t hardly stand to sit here another minute.”

“You just came back from a walk,” her husband grumbled. “I’m gonna float away if we drink any more coffee.”

“Oh, come on you old bastard,” Ada stood and offered her hand to the old man. “A little more exercise won’t kill you.”

“You see how she treats me,” Arthur teased. “And people say the man is in charge-- _bah_!”

The door had barely clicked closed behind them before Ben shut his book with a slap and reached over with one long arm to lock it. He yanked the rolling shade down and turned back to her with an urgency she had not seen in him in days.

Without another word Rey stood over him, steadying herself against the swaying of the train with her hand on the metal luggage rack. She flicked open his belt with a practiced ease, and her fingers could not help but brush the swell of his hardness through his trousers as she eased the zipper down. She edged one knee next to him on the seat, but he stopped her with a hand to her hip. 

“We don’t have time for that,” he whispered, “Use your mouth, I’ll be quick.”

She nodded and knelt between his legs, watching as he deftly freed himself from his pants. The sight of him made her wet, but she knew she would have to wait until later. Rey did not hesitate in taking him in her mouth, alternating between teasing strokes with her tongue and grasping his hard length in her hand, stroking him until his skin moved over his rigid shaft. 

He gasped as she let her teeth graze his head on one stroke, and he cupped the back of her head firmly to buck up into her mouth. Rey fought the urge to gag as he filled her mouth, and she felt the telltale twitch against her tongue a moment before he released his hold on her to let her catch his spend. Her eyes watered a little at the effort, but she managed to swallow him down in two gulps, wiping her lips on the heel of her hand before he could fish his handkerchief out of his pocket to help her.

“Better?” she asked, settling back into her seat. 

“Only if you could do it multiple times in a row,” he grinned wolfishly. “I owe you.” 

“Yes, you do,” she replied mischievously.

* * *

He paid his debt in full that night, and as they lay entwined beneath the scratchy blanket, he asked, “Are you nervous to meet my family?” 

“I suppose not…” She was drowsy in the haze of his attentions and she slapped his fingers when they reached dangerously high up on her inner thigh once more. “Should I be?”

He was quiet for a long moment, tracing a lazy circle around her navel. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I hope my cousins are alright,” she remarked. “They were getting part of my wages from the shipyards, I just hope my uncle did right by them with the money.” 

He propped his head up on his elbow as much as the tight sleeping berth would allow. “What’s it like, having cousins?”

She peered at him in the dark, ghosting her knuckles against his lips. “It’s…. crowded,” she chuckled. “We all went to California in one car, you know? And our house wasn’t very big at all, so we shared bedrooms. All the boys in one room, all us girls in another, and my uncle sleeping wherever he passed out, most nights.”

Ben kissed the back of her hand, then bent her wrist back to kiss her palm softly. “And how old were you when your mom died?”

“Didn’t I tell you…?” she narrowed her eyes at him, thinking he might be teasing. “I was 10, I think.” 

“I knew that,” Ben grinned at her. “I was just checking to see if you remembered.” 

She shoved her hands against his chest playfully. “What about you? No siblings; no cousins either?”

He shook his head. “They broke the mold after they made me, sweetheart.”

“Oh, _please_ ,” she laughed. “It’s a wonder your head can fit in here!” 

He caught her lips in a sloppy kiss that lingered and deepened until Rey felt a rush of heat between her thighs once more. 

“Ben, no,” she protested weakly. “I don’t want to wake them!” 

He pulled her into the curve of his body and pulled the blanket higher over their sides in response. “I’ll behave,” he whispered. 

“That would be a change,” she giggled. “Have we consummated this marriage in every state we’ve been through?”

His laughter shook them both. “I think so? It seems like a worthy goal.”

They were quiet for awhile before he said, “Actually, I had a twin brother. He died not long after we were born.”

She twisted her upper body back to look up at him. “I’m sorry. Do your parents ever talk about it?”

Ben shook his head, eyes closed. “Lots of children die… I was lucky to make it, I guess. My mother says she never wanted any more, but… I wonder. My dad always seemed irritated by how close she was with my uncle because they were twins, so I always felt like… maybe he was secretly glad. It’s weird.”

Rey didn’t know what to say to this. She had trouble imagining herself taking care of one child of her own, let alone multiple ones at once. From his description of his mother, she suspected she did not measure her worth by how many children she produced. She instinctively liked this woman she’d soon meet, and hoped the feeling would be mutual. 

She snuggled against him, and the rocking of the train lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Two dogs raced up the driveway towards them as they made their way to the first mailbox from the dusty road outside town. A tall, rangy dog with a golden coat leapt first at Ben, yipping its greeting in clipped, short barks while its short, stout companion licked eagerly at Rey’s fingertips. She knelt down and smiled at the dog’s funny eyes, one askew and the other bulging slightly from its socket with a ring of white showing around the iris. 

“Alright, alright,” Ben shooed them. “Down! Threepio, cut it out!” 

“Who’s this one,” she asked. The smaller dog’s tongue accidentally swept her front teeth while she spoke.

Ben grimaced in disgust when he saw it. “That’s Artoo, and they’re both the worst-behaved animals known to man,” he groused. “C’mon, boys, where’s Uncle Luke, huh?” 

The dogs trotted circles around them as they made their way to the screen door of the house. Ben shielded his eyes with his hand against the sun and peered inside. Rey could hear a radio playing faintly, but she didn’t detect any stirrings in the house. 

“I think he’s out in the barn,” Ben said. “Let’s go around back.” 

They made their way around the edge of the house and towards the barn. Rey surveyed the scene of multiple cars decaying in various states of disrepair, a tractor missing one wheel, and a motorcycle with a sidecar attached. She was already making a mental checklist of things she could fix when an older man in grey, grease-stained overalls emerged from the barn. 

“Ben?!” he called, squinting at them as his eyes adjusted to the bright, late-afternoon sun. “Is that you?”

Ben dropped his bag and closed the distance between them, engulfing his uncle in a hug. Rey hung back shyly as Luke held his nephew at arm’s length and proclaimed, “Look at you, we thought we might never see you again!” 

“Well, you’re seeing me now,” Ben smiled and hugged the man to him once more. “It’s so good to see you.”

Luke glanced at her, a smile quirking his lips beneath his greying beard. “And this is….?” 

“Oh!” Ben exclaimed as though he’d forgotten she was even standing there. “Rey, this is my uncle Luke.” 

“It’s a pleasure,” she said, extending her hand to Luke in greeting. “This is quite a collection you have here.”

Luke pumped her hand longer than was strictly necessary to be polite as he gazed around at the various projects. “It’s very nice to meet you, Rey. You’ve come all this way, you must be tired from your trip.”

She shrugged and shielded her eyes to observe Luke. There was something kind, but slightly sad about his eyes, and she sensed he was a man who had lived alone for a long time without close companionship. “Let me know if you need another pair of hands,” she offered. “I’m pretty handy myself.”

“No kidding,” Luke replied, “You know your way around an engine?” 

“Well enough.” Rey didn’t want to brag. 

“Well enough,” Luke repeated, stuffing his hands in his back pockets. “That’s something for you. Your folks have been waiting an awful long time to see you, Ben. Maybe you should go on up to the house.” 

“You coming up too?” Ben thumbed in the direction of the house just up over a rise in the driveway. 

“Nah, I’ll be up later,” Luke said. “I’m right in the middle of something, but take the dogs with you, huh?” 

“How did they get their names?” she asked.

Ben spoke first. “Artoo’s named for the postal route, rural route number two. The mailman found him as a puppy and Luke brought him home.”

“And C3-PO, same thing -- he was at three county post offices for adoption before I was dumb enough to bring him home,” Luke finished. “They weren’t the dogs I thought I was looking for, but they seem to have found me. What can you do?” He shrugged as though he was worn down by their very presence.

Ben nodded at Rey and they set off up the driveway, Artoo licking the fingers of her free hand until Ben laced his fingers between her slippery ones and held them aloft between them, out of Artoo’s reach.

“Disgusting,” Ben grumbled, but Rey saw his smile in her peripheral vision, and she couldn’t help but return one herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to thank my dear cousin S., who has patiently endured an endless string of texts as we figured out what this fic is going to be, and whose only requests were that our OTP bang their way across America and that Han be "alive and kicking in total Han glory". 
> 
> I could not ask for a better role model and patient editor/beta than the woman who introduced me to historical romance novels as young tweenagers on a cross-country car trip in the early 90's.
> 
> Also, my folks' house was on rural route #2 for mail service when I was a kid, because I grew up in Nowheresville. :D


	7. Dream A Little Dream of Me

They stood expectantly on the wooden front porch after Ben knocked on the door. Artoo settled next to her feet, panting hot breath near her ankle.

“Do we need to knock…?” Rey was a bit confused. 

Ben shook his head with a grimace. “It can’t hurt to be polite,” he said quietly. “I didn’t leave things on the best of terms.”

The man who opened the door to the house was everything, and nothing, like what Rey expected Ben’s father to look like. 

“Ben…?!” he exclaimed, opening the screen door with a slap, barreling out of the house and grabbing him into a tight hug. “Thank the Maker, you made it back!” 

Han was slightly shorter than Ben, and his once-dark hair was shot through with grey, but Rey immediately saw their resemblance when Han held his son at arm’s length and grinned at him. He cupped the back of Ben’s head and pulled their foreheads together, and Rey could see the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Hey, Dad,” Ben breathed, and Rey could hear he was overcome. “You look good.”

Han’s smile broadened at this. “Tell your mother that, she’s on my case again about it. Wants me to try some new _diet_ , I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but you know her -- it’s always a cause.”

“I do know,” Ben said softly. “Dad, I want you to meet my wife, Reynata.”

Rey stepped forwards and started to extend her hand, but Han cut her off at the pass. 

“Reynata, huh?” Han looked her up and down quickly before grabbing her into a bear hug as well. “Shit, you kids are married? I take a nap one afternoon and everyone comes home with delusions of grandeur. Welcome to the nuthouse!”

She caught Ben’s eyeroll over Han’s shoulder as she awkwardly held the embrace, but her husband could not repress his smile. She finally pulled away and said shyly, “Please, call me Rey, but what should I call you, sir?”

Han looked surprised, then grinned again. “You can call me anything you like, sweetheart, but Han will do. No need to be formal for this old scoundrel.”

Ben cleared his throat and chuckled, “Is Mother here?”

Han’s smile dropped at this. He shoved his hands in his back pockets, much as Luke had done, and Rey could feel a perceptible shift in the energy between them. “She’s in her study, and I think Lando might be over.”

“Oh,” Ben said simply. “That’s still going on?” 

Han shrugged. “I’m as surprised as you are, son. Why don’t you bring your things in and freshen up. We thought Rey could sleep up in your office. Your room’s still the same, but the bed’s too small for two to sleep… Assuming you’ve reached the stage of wanting to just sleep,” he added mischievously. 

Rey giggled hesitantly at Han’s insinuation, and to her surprise, a deep flush crept over Ben’s cheeks at this. “Alright, that’ll do,” Ben grumbled. “Don’t let the dogs in the house,” he cautioned as they sidled around Artoo through the door. “Threepio is like a tornado when he gets in.”

* * *

The small attic room was outfitted with a wooden desk covered with piles of paper around a typewriter and stacks of books with scraps of paper stuck in their pages, and a single bed with what looked like fresh sheets turned down for her. Rey placed her suitcase on the luggage rack and noticed the small skylight in the peaked roof overhead. 

She bounced on the edge of the bed, testing the mattress, before proceeding to the desk to look at his papers. 

The typewriter held a page still in the reel, a bevy of slashes through the words and phrases already typed on it and corrections in pencil in the margins. The final, unfinished sentence began, “It is arguable that the dichotomy is less drastic than envisioned by Schickling --” 

Rey stared at this page, noting how many words on it she’d never seen before. She carefully thumbed open the pages of the topmost book in a stack to the marked page. Ben’s slanted handwriting was immediately recognizable on the bookmark, a terse-looking arrow pointing towards a paragraph with a scribble she made out to read, “Disagree. Contrast with Schaeffer’s argument.”

She placed the book back on its stack when she heard his step on the stair, turning from the desk to see Ben slip inside the door and close it quietly behind him. 

“Are you finding everything?” he asked. He straightened up when he saw the desk. “You found that mess already, I see.” 

“What is… all this?” Rey gestured vaguely at the typewriter. 

Ben crossed the small room and peered at the half-finished page. “It’s... my work,” he said simply. He leaned on the desk with both hands and reread what he had written, scowling at the page. 

“Your _work_?” Rey repeated, amused. Writing didn’t seem like anything she had ever associated with work before. It seemed like a pastime one might do if they weren’t exhausted from their job.

Ben cocked his head at her. “I was writing my doctoral thesis… before.” 

Rey crossed her arms and then one ankle over the other. “So… you would be a doctor?” She felt a flicker of unease in her stomach. She was curious why he had never mentioned this before now.

“Not a medical doctor,” Ben replied gently, and his eyes crinkled in amusement. “A doctorate to be a professor.” 

“I see,” Rey said, but she knew she didn’t. She had never considered how people became professors. Things had to be written? “How long does that take?”

“Too long,” he chuckled. “It depends on your field, but I spent most of my twenties on it already. It doesn’t seem too important now, given…. things in the world.”

She was silent at this. He opened the drawer briefly, and she saw a stack of envelopes in the drawer before he closed it quickly. What caught her eye, though, was the decidedly feminine script on them that read simply, _B--._ She caught the flicker of recognition in his expression before he turned to her, saying, “Shall we go see if my mother’s free yet?”

“What are those?” She knew she should leave it, but she was too curious.

“Aaaah, I don’t know,” he said, and she immediately felt he wasn’t being completely honest. “They weren’t there when I left. I’ll have to ask my folks why they put them in there.”

He turned away to go downstairs and she interrupted with another question. “And…. who’s Lando?”

He stopped in the doorway, then turned and placed his hands high up on the doorjamb. The question caused him to draw his breath in and hold it. He closed the door behind him again and leaned heavily against it. 

“Lando is…” Ben looked everywhere but at her. “He is my mother’s lover.” 

Rey stared at him, thinking he was joking. “But, what about your father? Han?” 

Ben shook his head and heaved a deep sigh. “It’s complicated, but… it’s what works for them. They have an arrangement about things. I think it’s crazy, but it’s been going on at least half my life now. They aren’t going to understand what we have, I’m pretty sure of it.”

Rey hitched her arms tighter against her body and crossed over to stand directly in front of him. “Does your father have…. lovers, too?” She felt awkward even saying the word out loud. It seemed like a term too romantic for their time, and certainly not one that applied to someone’s parents.

Ben studied her carefully. “It bothers you, doesn’t it.” 

Rey shrugged. “I can tell it bothers _you_ ,” she replied. “I’m sure it was… confusing.”

“Like I said, _I_ think it’s strange,” Ben said evenly. “But, it’s better than it was? They love each other so much, it’s almost scary. But like a destructive storm, you know? A force of nature. They’re both the kind of people who can’t be contained in one thing, or place, for forever. Does that make any sense?”

“I think so,” Rey replied. She sensed that her idea of relationships and personal commitment was actually more fluid than his, but wasn’t sure how to feel him out about it. She had long recognized that the bonds of family were tenuous and sometimes, the connections she had forged to others were stronger than those made by blood. “Shall we go meet your mother?” 

Ben nodded and leaned forward to plant a kiss her forehead before opening the door with his hand behind him. “C’mon, let’s go see.”

* * *

To her surprise, an older colored gentleman with a neatly trimmed mustache opened the door to the study a crack when Ben rapped gently on the wood. He looked from Ben to her, his eyes traveling up and down her figure, appraising her quickly before he offered his hand in greeting.

“I know this young man, but you might you be?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as Rey let him grasp her fingers and she smiled shyly as he drew her hand to his lips to peck it. His moustache tickled her knuckles and she replied, “Reynata, and you are?”

“Dr. Lando Calrissian,” he purred, releasing her hand to shake Ben’s in turn. “Welcome home, Ben. It’s good to see you in one piece.”

“Doctor,” Ben replied politely, but Rey noted the formality in his tone and sensed there was no love lost between these men. She shifted expectantly, catching her elbow behind her back with her other hand. 

Just then, the door opened fully and Ben’s mother held the edge of it with her other hand authoritatively at her hip. She looked between them several times, and Rey knew she was being sized up. She lifted her chin proudly and tried to keep her face as open as possible, but her first instinct was to frown and look at the floor. 

The woman pursed her lips a couple of times, looking like she was on the verge of speaking, before she finally pronounced: “You changed your hair.”

“Mother,” Ben said gruffly with a nod. “You look well.”

Rey dropped her elbow and stood at what felt like attention, arms at her sides. She suddenly wished she had picked a different dress, or better shoes, or anything that would’ve felt like armor against the relentless inspection she was now enduring from Ben’s mother. The woman was petite, her figure looking to have thickened with age, but Rey could see she had once been a fearsome beauty and that her husband had inherited her chestnut eyes. She wore a plain tunic with a rounded collar that draped loosely over her frame, and her legs were clad in loose-fitting pants of the same color and material. It reminded Rey of one of Maz’s ambiguous get-ups. 

“Well?” she said expectantly, raising her eyebrow at Ben. “Have you forgotten all your manners, or do they not have those in the Army?”

“The Air Force,” he corrected her, “And no -- Rey, this is my mother, Dr. Leia Organa.” 

“It’s a pleasure,” Rey offered her hand once more, and she was slightly surprised when Leia took it firmly with both hands wrapped around hers. “Thank you for having us.”

Leia nodded briskly and asked, “Would you rather I call you Reynata, or Rey?”

“Either is fine,” she started politely, but Leia cut her off.

“Being vague when I ask you a question will not endear you to me,” Leia said with some force. “Surely you have a preference?”

Rey was taken aback by this directness from a woman, especially one she had just met. “You can call me Rey, ma’am.”

“Good,” Leia said curtly. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with my son.” No one moved until she clarified, “Alone.”

Dr. Calrissian lifted a greying eyebrow at Rey and said, “Shall we see if there’s some tea in the ice box, Miss Rey?”

“Of course,” she demurred, backing away so that he could slip out the door beside Ben. She glanced back down the hallway over her shoulder as she trailed him, and caught Ben’s eye before he retreated into the study after his mother. 

_I love you_ , he mouthed at her and winked, a small smile quirking his lips, then she heard the door click closed behind him.

* * *

They found Han on a screened-in back porch, dozing on a couch with a magazine over his face and one foot propped up against the arm of the sofa. Artoo was licking his fingers where they hung down to the floor. He started when Rey accidentally banged the door behind her. 

“Sorry,” she said quickly, but Han sat up and blinked a few sleepy times.

“Hey, Lando,” Han grinned and stuck out his hand. “How’s things?”

“Things are things,” Dr. Calrissian said affably. He settled onto the couch next to Han. 

Rey could see the two men had a comfortable rapport with one another, and she eased into a wicker armchair with a palm-print cushion, sipping delicately at her sweating glass of tea. 

Han rubbed his hands over his face and grinned over the tops of his fingers at her. “How’s the General?”

“Awwww, shit,” Lando murmured, chuckling at what seemed to be a private joke. “Pardon my French, Rey.”

“The General…?” Rey repeated, curious now. “Do you mean Dr. Organa?” 

“Yeah, Leia hates it when I call her the General,” Han said with a sly smile. “That’s why I do it. Keeps things lively.”

“I see,” Rey demurred, staring into her glass for a moment. She instantly liked Han, and she could see how his rakish charm was both different from, and an influencer of, her husband’s.

“Miss Rey,” Lando began, “Tell us about yourself. And -- welcome to the family.” 

“Thank you,” she said softly. “But, there’s really not much to tell, I’m afraid-- what did you want to know?”

The two men looked at each other and said in unison, “Anything.” 

Rey wasn’t sure where to begin, and she was pretty sure she was babbling, but she told them everything she imagined they wanted to hear: only child, the Depression, westward migration, parents gone, wartime employment, meeting Ben, marrying Ben, pining for Ben, and their eventual reunion. These last bits she rendered in only the sparsest of detail. 

“And now we’re here,” she finished. “Oh, and I can fix just about anything, so let me know if you want me to work on things.”

“Isn’t that something,” Lando nodded, his finger curled over his chin and playing at his mustache. “Such a game of chance that brought us all together here.” 

“You know what I always say,” Han began. 

“Women always find out the truth?” Lando supplied.

“No-- well, I do say that too, because it’s true. No, I meant -- I always say, never tell me the odds,” Han finished with a flourish, hands raised. 

Rey grinned at them. They made quite a pair. 

Just then she heard Ben’s step in the hallway, and her husband peeked out through the door. 

“Well, this looks like trouble,” he pronounced with a smile. “Lando, did you want to stay for dinner, or….?”

Lando smoothed his hands on his thighs and stood. “I should get going, you all have a lot of catching up to do. Han --” he extended his hand to the man still seated. “Until next time.”

“Alright, you pirate,” Han shook his hand. “Ben, do you want to fetch Luke?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Rey, can you help set the table?”

* * *

The three of them sat for a long time on Luke’s porch after dinner had ended, mostly in a comfortable silence, just watching Threepio and Artoo chase one another in circles, occasionally snapping unlucky lightening bugs from the air. 

Finally Rey stood, stretching her arms overhead and bending slightly backwards. She caught Ben’s glance as it raked over the length of her frame. “I’m going to head to bed,” she excused herself. “It’s been a long day.”

“Goodnight, Rey,” Luke said softly. “And…. welcome home.” 

She felt her chest tighten at the unexpected familiarity in his voice, and how readily Luke seemed to accept her presence. “Thank you,” she replied. 

Ben got up and walked several strides away from the house with her before he lightly grasped her wrist between his thumb and forefingers, until she could just feel her pulse beating against the pressure. He leaned over to peck her cheek and as he straightened, he said so only she would hear, “I’ll come up to you in a bit -- I won’t be too much longer.”

Rey blushed and nodded her agreement.

Ben’s office was very warm and still as she lay drowsily atop the covers in her slip, staring out at the stars through the skylight. It reminded her of hot summer nights at home in Bakersfield, when she’d escape the sweaty, close misery of her shared bedroom to lay outside, hidden in the bed of their truck to look at the heavens and letting the night breeze from the mountains cool her sweaty skin. Occasionally she had shown mercy to her youngest cousin, Ruby, letting the child curl against her to point out the constellations until she drifted off to sleep. Mostly though, she had selfishly guarded that stolen time to take care of her own desires and needs with only the sky as her witness.

She did not have a watch to track him, but it seemed like it was ages before she heard the squeak at the topmost stair that belied his presence. She wondered how he could’ve walked so softly up when he slipped around the partially-closed door. 

Rey shifted to her side and raised up on one elbow. 

“Maker save us, it’s hot as hell up here,” he chuckled. “Hold on, this window opens.” He stood on his desk chair and found a lever she had not seen and he cracked the window open. She immediately felt a rush of cooler air begin to circulate over her.

“That took longer than I intended,” Ben apologized. “We had a lot of things to catch up on.”

She merely blinked her ascent, and waited as he stripped down to his underwear. He seemed too big for this small room, having to stoop slightly to keep from bumping his head on the peaked roof. 

“Did you ever sleep up here?” she asked finally. 

Ben smiled. “I spent _years_ in this room, you have no idea.”

She observed him languidly as he folded his clothes over the back of his chair and glanced once more at the clutter on the desk. “Shall I leave the lamp on?” he asked, and she noted the huskiness that shaded his tone. 

“Yes,” she said simply, stretching her hand out, palm up in supplication. “I want to see you.”

A trace of lust flashed across his face as he made his way to her, but what struck Rey most was how _relaxed_ he finally looked. There was a tightness gone from around his eyes that she hadn’t even detected until she noticed its absence. It was perhaps the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. 

She knelt on the bed in front of him, and shivered despite the warmth as he grasped the hem of her slip delicately and his fingers brushed her ticklish sides when he drew the garment up and over her head. His thumb traced along the ridge of her collarbone, and she felt weak as he gently grasped her upper arms and pulled her upright towards him into a kiss. A dark, heavy wave of desire washed over her lower body as their tongues met and he licked into her mouth, and she could not help but whimper softly. 

“I think the Maker was just showing off when he made you,” Ben breathed, “You know that, right?”

She shook her head in modest disagreement, but reached instead for the waistband of his shorts, hooking her fingers into them and carefully dispersing him of any remaining clothing.

He stood at ease for her attentions, lightly cupping the back of her head and ghosting his fingers over her face as she pecked kisses on his torso, trailing her fingers over his chest, tweaking his flat nipples until he huffed, rubbing her thumbs up his inner thighs and down his low stomach until he bucked forwards eagerly and his hard length brushed her chest. 

“ _I need you_ ,” she whispered, her desire having stolen her voice. 

Without hesitation, he guided her onto her back and she closed her eyes as she felt the bed shift under his weight. A moment later, he hovered just over her and she arched impatiently to force contact between their bellies. 

“Ben,” she said, winding her hands around his neck and ruffling his hair at the base of skull. “Hold my leg in your arm?” 

“Are you ready?” he seemed to doubt her. 

She nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

A private smile quirked his lips momentarily as he wound one elbow behind her leg as she asked, kissing her inner knee. She shuddered to feel his teeth scrape the delicate spot, and he hitched her leg against him as he bent closer over her.

She widened her legs for him and closed her eyes once more as she felt him slip inside her body. He arched into her and slid almost to his hilt in one go, her slippery sex eagerly accepting his manhood. 

When he had last taken her this way, before the war, Rey had found it more awkward than erotic. She had felt nervous, too exposed with her legs splayed open in this undignified way. She had found it hard to focus on him in someone else’s bed like this, wondering if somehow they would know when they returned. Instead, she had readily taken to other positions she knew some women might consider too humiliating in their anonymity to avoid the unrelenting intimacy of this one. He had never questioned her, and she knew these other expressions of her desire spoke to his basest, masculine carnality. 

Now though, here in the quiet stillness of his boyhood home with a few late-season cicadas droning in the night, she found her vulnerability to him intoxicating, and she relaxed into a submission she could never allow herself with him before. She braced the heel of her hand against his shoulder and pushed against him in the mildest play of resistance, and he rewarded her with a steady, deep pressure from his hips that drew a gasp from her. His arm supporting her leg unlocked a tension in her low back so pervasive she was barely conscious of it, and she found that opening her hips released a hidden stress there as well that caused her to throb with desire in its absence. 

The corporeal recognition of this welled up and she came well before she meant to. Ben bit his lip and observed her as the hot, pulsing pleasure suffused her body, murmuring encouragement and soothing comfort in the shell of her ear even as he pressed deeper into her. Her peak had come over her so unexpectedly, but its gentle totality outweighed the sharper, more explosive pleasure she often felt had to chase to achieve.

She looked him in the eyes and could not form coherent words or make a sound aside from repeatedly mouthing, _Oh…._

A dark lust hooded his eyes as he dropped his face to her breast and began to tease her nipple with his clever lips and teeth. Rey turned her face to the wall and stared numbly as his attentions stirred a complicated feeling in her core that was at once comforting and arousing, exciting and soothing, erotic and... _maternal_. She pulled in a sharp breath at the recognition of it and felt over her head with her hand, grasping at the lathed spindles of the headboard, her ring making a dull clicking sound against it as she slid her hand up one of them, pulling herself slightly up and away from him. 

“ _C’mere_ ,” he breathed, “I’m not through with you just yet.” He pried her fingers from the wood and captured her wrist, pinning her arm down above her head. She forced her eyes open and had the strangest sensation of watching them from outside her body, even as she felt the undeniable pricks of a new wave of pleasure mounting in her core. What would an observer have read from this scene, if they could see? 

He released her leg to regain the full use of both his arms, and while it changed the sensation that had overwhelmed her a few minutes before, it placed a new, urgent pressure on her groin that drew a low moan from her lips. Ben banded one arm beneath her back and it tipped her hips forwards to him in a way that made his lower stomach brush her with every gentle stroke of his own. He wasn’t so much thrusting as rocking against her, and the unending fullness she felt was punctuated by mounting crests that were quickly bringing her again to the edge of the cliff she’d already just tumbled over. 

Once more she set her hands at his shoulders, working just enough against his rhythm that he opened his eyes and looked down at her. She met his gaze steadily as she squeezed her low belly and he stilled suddenly as her body contracted around his manhood. She held him still a moment, no more, and she relaxed her arms to signal that he might move, and he resumed working against her until she caught him off guard again. 

“Rey,” his voice held a note of warning, “That feels.... a little _too_ good.”

“Does it?” she asked, coy.

Ben closed his eyes and they rolled back. “Mmmmmmpf,” he murmured. 

Rey knew exactly what she was doing. They had played this game before he’d left, and it was readily apparent from his reaction that he was a willing participant. She might have been on her back, but she knew she held a definite power over him with this push-and-pull. 

“Come for me, Ben,” she commanded. “Show me how good it feels.”

Her husband shook his head gently against the idea of it, but she could tell he was too far gone. She squeezed his hard length once more and he broke instantly, leaning hard against her and grabbing at the headboard now himself, twisting his body as though to seek out a secret, deeper place in her that he had never found before. This sudden, rough motion of his hips after the taut stillness pushed her straight over her edge, and she broke then too, gazing possessively up at him, at how the corded muscles in his arm stood out above her as he braced against her, at how his chest flexed slightly with the effort under his tattoo, the black points of its rondelle pointing right towards his heart. 

Her second peak layered itself over the remnants of the first with a sharper, more insistent twinge that arched her back and dug her heels into the mattress, making her both wish it could both go on forever and squirm as though to escape the ecstasy so pointed she found it close to pain. She panted and her head lolled from side to side, working her lips as though to say something but no words could ever adequately summarize how much she _needed, wanted, desired_ and every other greedy word that flew through her mind as the fingers of pleasure shot down her legs, convulsed her low belly and practically closed her throat as she fought for breath against the insatiable lust she felt. 

The intensity of this connection to him, to _anyone_ frightened her, and she knew she would not be able to live without him if the Maker saw fit to take him from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paging Dr. Lando Calrissian... please come to your open relationship, STAT! :)
> 
> Whew, this chapter turned into a doozy, but thanks to everyone who is continuing to read what is turning into an epic.


	8. It's a Sin to Tell a Lie

Untethered by the rigorous obligations of a work schedule and busy city life, Rey found the warm, autumnal days in the ensuing weeks segueing into one another in a mostly-comfortable melange of eating, playing with the dogs, making small-talk with Ben’s family, and stolen moments with him. They fell into an unspoken routine of visiting one another after dark or before dawn, measuring out their affections to one another in doses that felt, at least to Rey, like a spoonful of the syrupy medicine she recalled her mother doling out regularly to her when she had fallen ill with a cough as a child. In between doses, she had felt the effects of the medicine wearing off and feigned worse sickness to tempt her mother to mete out an extra dose of the sweet-but-bitter liquid that lingered on the back of her palate as it coated her insides to suppress her distress. It felt embarrassingly childish to her now, as she realized her mother probably saw through her ruse all along, and she felt ashamed to have played sick when she knew what medicine cost. 

If Ben found her too needy, though, she had yet to detect it; he visited her with an eager regularity, and they rarely spent the night apart. She ached to hear his step on the squeaky top stair, and on the occasional nights it didn’t come, she would turn restlessly until the first gradient change she could detect in the night sky through the skylight before creeping down to his room to curl against his sleeping form.

On more than one of these nights, she had slipped out of her bed to sit gingerly at his desk, peering curiously at the piles that he had rearranged several times since their arrival without seeming to make any headway or sense of the mess. Her curiosity got the better of her one endless night and she had opened the drawer that contained the secret envelopes. 

There were more than a dozen, but they were all annoyingly sealed against her prying eyes. The heavyweight, cream-colored paper looked fancy, like the type carried at downtown department stores in their stationary counters alongside pens that cost as much as food. Rey felt nervous tracing the outline of her husband’s first initial on them, feeling how the author’s pen had dented the paper ever so slightly. There were no postmarks, stamps, or return addresses to give her any clue from whence they’d come, but the lack of even Ben’s address told her they had come by hand, or by someone who knew where to find him. 

He had clearly recognized the hand on mystery epistles upon their arrival, but she hadn’t had the courage to ask him directly about it, nor had he seen fit to mention them again or even remove them from her purview. She did not know how to interpret this, and her worry felt like a small stone that settled between her lungs and her belly. She could mostly ignore its existence, but somehow the tension she felt under Leia’s silent, hard glares caused it to grow in size until it was an unavoidable nuisance. She often wondered if Leia herself had left them, but there was another, nagging possibility that Rey could not completely dismiss either. 

Many afternoons she found herself seated at the workbench in Luke’s barn, tinkering on various projects the man had stashed away over the years. The two of them had fallen quickly into a silent rapport, and he only occasionally interrupted her to examine the progress on her work, giving her more and more complicated items as he saw how easily she mended the simpler ones. The radio filled in the gaps with the reports on farm futures, weather, and the occasional baseball game. The broadcasters on the radio stations here had names she had never heard of at home, ones that spoke of ancestors from the frozen northern reaches of Europe: Paulsson, Messerschmidt, Pedersen. She knew they didn’t need to speak all the time to share the language of mechanical objects, and the dogs were her mute witnesses as she wrestled and soldered radios, compressors, air valves and pistons back to life. 

She was in the midst of one such project when Ben interrupted her with a peck to the top of the head that startled her. 

“What’s on the assembly line today, Mrs. Foreman,” he teased her. “I’m surprised there’s any broken equipment left in the county at the rate Luke’s got you working out here.” 

“I heard that,” Luke’s voice came from underneath a Studebaker he’d salvaged with Han several days prior. “I couldn’t keep Rey away from work if I tried.”

Rey held up the valve she’d been filing delicately for his inspection with a challenging eyebrow raised. “Do you even know what this is, Professor?” A sly smile quirked her lips.

“I know what it is,” he insisted. “It’s a thing that goes in another thing, right?” He smiled then, not caring that she was teasing him. She gently removed the object from his hand and wiped her fingers on the grease-stained rag on the workbench. 

“Do you need something?” she asked quietly.

 _You_ , Ben mouthed playfully before answering aloud, “Would you like to take a walk with me?” 

“Get out of here,” Luke’s muffled voice came again from beneath the car. “You’re only this young once.”

It was very warm in the sun as they walked the familiar path to the woods and the creek that bordered the back of the property, but Rey could detect a note in the air that signaled the impending chilly night and a certain dry element of the leaves that had already been shed by the trees. Many were still green, but a few had begun to yellow or even brown, dropping their plumage onto the grass. A few maples here and there had begun to flush red and orange, their changes signaled by the frosts that had already coated the grass on several October mornings. For the moment, though, the countryside was gripped in the most beautiful Indian summer anyone could recall. 

They were nearly to the edge of the woods when a flash of motion and a rustle in the bushes caught Rey’s eye. She stopped Ben with a gentle hand to his forearm, and they waited in silence until Rey spotted a pair of dark eyes staring out at them. 

“What do you think that is?” she asked. “It looked like a dog, I thought.” 

Ben whistled low through his teeth and the bush shook again with the stowaway’s movements. “Let’s get in the shade at least,” he suggested. “It’s probably just a stray dog.”

They proceeded a few more steps into the treeline and Rey glanced over her shoulder, looking for the hidden observer. Just then, she caught a flash of orange and white darting behind a larger tree. 

“Ben, look!” she pointed, but he turned a moment too late. “I think it’s a fox!” 

“No kidding,” Ben chuckled, “I bet it’s old BB-- I figured he’d be long gone by now.”

“Why’s he called that,” Rey asked, making clucking sounds at the tree to try to coax the animal into visibility. 

“Ah, because my father’s shot him with a bee bee gun a half-dozen times or more,” Ben admitted. He crouched down and made a clucking sound like Rey’s, trying to lure BB out. 

The animal finally moved from its hiding spot, placing weight ever so gently on one front paw and easing out from behind the tree, ducking and weaving its head, trying to size them up. It was a fox, and it swiveled its ears suspiciously from back to front. Rey saw then that one was torn, limp at the top, and she wondered if it was damage from an errant shot. 

“I’ll be, that’s definitely the same fox,” Ben said softly. “He must be at least 10 years old. I didn’t think they lived that long, but… he’s got some kind of luck.”

 _Never tell me the odds_ , Rey thought with a small smile. 

The creature froze for an agonizingly long instant before wheeling and darting off into the undergrowth. She turned reluctantly and followed Ben further into the woods, the dappled shade cooling their heads from the brief trek across the meadow. Ben walked with an unhurried deliberation, his hands in his trouser pockets and his head bowed as though in thought. She trailed him by several paces, enjoying the close silence as they made their way to the bank of the creek that cut through the area.

They settled onto the grass, their legs in the sun with their upper bodies shielded by the trees. 

“What were you studying, before you left?” Rey thought of the papers and books in the office. 

“Philosophy,” Ben said around a yawn. “Why do you ask?”

Rey shrugged. “You never told me about it. Can’t I be curious?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Ben smiled and kissed her head. “It just seems awfully… frivolous at this point, like something that’s a long way in the past. Besides, I’m pretty sure I did mention it in a letter or… ten. But…. ”

“Is that what your mother studies, too?” Rey asked. She had barely seen Leia outside her study for the duration of their stay. When she did emerge, she paid Rey little mind. 

“No, my mother’s a history professor,” Ben explained. 

“I see,” Rey snuggled against him. “What does she do all day in there? I guess I don’t understand what you do when you’re not teaching.” 

“Oh,” Ben nodded, closing his eyes against the sun. “That’s actually a very small component of academic life. It’s a lot of reading, and a lot of writing about what you read, and reading more, then writing about that, mixed with hoping that someone else will read an article or book of yours and write something of their own to debate what you wrote, and trying to convince everyone that your interpretation of things is the correct one.”

Rey chuckled, “Just that, huh?”

“Just that,” Ben confirmed. “I told you, it sounds frivolous, doesn’t it?”

Rey shrugged. She didn’t want to be judgemental, but it was hard to believe anyone had time or the inclination to do such a thing, let alone refer to it as _work_.

“You can say it, I won’t be insulted,” Ben goaded her. “I recognize it. I’m not so sure my mother does.” 

“You said it takes years to do this?” Rey was incredulous. “How do you know when you’re done?”

“You’re not really ever done,” Ben said simply. “It’s a constant continuum, people adding to the knowledge of a given field.”

Rey was silent for a long time, staring up at the clear blue sky. 

“Do you want to start doing that again?” she finally asked.

He smoothed his hand over her hair and murmured against her head, “I don’t know that I can.”

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Leia seemed in an uncharacteristically chipper mood. They were nearly finished eating when she laid down her newspaper and folded her hands on it, looking at them all with a smile.

Rey was more than aware of the stone in her middle. 

“So, I ran into the Chancellor yesterday,” Leia began, and Rey noticed how Ben straightened up instantly at the news. “He was very keen to see how you’re doing, Ben, and I offered that he should come over for dinner this evening.”

Han sighed audibly, and Rey thought she saw him roll his eyes from where his head was bowed behind a section of the paper. 

“Oh,” Ben said. “Is that so.”

“He’s very eager to see you, Ben,” Leia sounded like she was running a campaign.

“Rey,” Ben glanced at her, “Chancellor Snoke and his family have been friends of our family for most of my life. He’s…. more or less the head of the university where my mother teaches.”

“Oh,” Rey nodded, “Well…. It would be very nice to make his acquaintance, I’m sure.”

“Is it only the Chancellor coming, or….?” Ben asked. 

“Margaret is traveling at the moment and sends her regrets, but Evelyn might accompany him,” Leia said, not breaking eye contact with Ben. They stared at one another for a long moment before Han interrupted. 

“Guess we better invite Luke up too and dust off the extra chairs from the barn, huh?” Han folded his newspaper in thirds. “Rey, you wanna give me a hand?”

She grinned and clapped once, twice, three times slowly. “Bravo,” she chuckled, and was relieved to see Han’s smile. 

Her husband and his mother were looking at their plates, seeming to be part of a different conversation altogether. 

The day wound on in agonizing stillness, one of the hottest since they had arrived. Even Threepio and Artoo lay prostrate in the shade of the barn, digging shallow holes and nestling their bodies into the damp earth to try to escape the heat.

Rey tinkered idly with a radio in the barn, wiring and rewiring it until it sparked to life and began blaring the same station in unison with the one hanging from a wire above the workbench. 

She felt restless, wondering what she might talk about with these people, and curious at Ben’s reaction to Leia’s announcement. It was obvious to her that this man was someone who had influence in his life, but for reasons she didn’t fully understand. Ben called them friends, but she suspected there was more to it than that -- political pull, favoritism, and even nepotism were surely not solely the province of the lower, working classes. 

A locust droned in the trees as she splashed cool water on her face in the bathroom, swiping the washcloth on the back of her neck and behind her ears. She did her best to smooth her unruly hair into a bun, but a few stray curls refused to stay put, falling repeatedly around her temples and forehead. 

Rey tucked her short-sleeved chartreuse blouse with a phoenix printed on the bodice into her trousers and slipped her feet into her flats, ones that Jessa had insisted she buy one Saturday as they’d perused Gump’s. 

“You don’t always have to be _so_ practical,” Jessa had encouraged her. “Most people have a few pairs of shoes they don’t wear every day.”

This was one of the only pairs she’d brought with that didn’t look like something she could wear to work: a narrow, pointy toe box and a delicate strap around her ankle to hold her foot in the scant footbed. A once-over in the mirror did nothing to reduce the anxiety she felt that she would somehow make a bad impression. 

Just then, she heard the muffled slam of a car door outside. Ben appeared in the bathroom door, leaning on the frame with both hands. 

“Hey, kid,” he said. “Are you ready for the inquisition?” He gave a half-hearted smile and she did her best to return a brighter one. 

“Of course, let’s go meet them,” she replied. 

“You look nice,” his voice was low as he guided her ahead of him with his hand on her lower back. Her stomach flip-flopped a touch, the way it always did when he paid her a compliment. 

Rey stood just behind Ben as he opened the front door to the guests standing on his parents’ front porch. 

The tall, thin older gentleman beamed when he saw Ben, but all Rey could think of was the rattlesnakes that she’d occasionally seen winding through the orchards. The man’s face narrowed to a sharp, sunken chin and his green eyes seemed to bulge from their deep sockets. 

“Ben Solo,” he said slowly, a smile creeping over his face, twisting it into a mask of happiness. Rey noted the smile did not seem to reach his eyes.

The young woman who accompanied him possessed the same eyes, but her femininity widened them into perfect, emerald orbs offset by her shoulder-length auburn hair. 

“Chancellor, it’s nice to see you,” Ben held the door open wide. “Please, come in.”

“Welcome home, Ben,” Chancellor Snoke purred in a voice that sounded like dry autumn leaves scraping against rocks. “Your mother must be so pleased to have you back safely. I presume she is--”

“In her study,” Ben finished. “She’s expecting you.” 

Rey was busy sizing up his companion, his daughter, and decided her mother must have been considerably more attractive than her husband to have produced such a well-put together creature. Her father sidled by them without so much as glance at Rey, and she noticed the stone grow a notch in her middle. Taller than Rey by several inches she owed at present to her neat high-heeled shoes, this woman cut a striking figure in a deep blue dress that accentuated the curve of her bustline and flared out over her narrow hips. Her lips were painted a shade of red that emphasized their full bow, and a touch of kohl at her eyelashes gave her green eyes an exotic cast like Theda Bara’s in the silent classic _Salome_ that Jessa had dragged her to see. Rey knew this was not a race, but she instantly felt outclassed.

“And… you look very well, Evelyn,” Ben moved forward without hesitation to peck her on her chastely-turned freckled cheek. Rey was a touch surprised by the familiarity of his greeting to this woman. 

“You’re welcome to call me _Dr._ Evelyn, Ben,” the woman said pointedly, her hand lingering on Ben’s forearm. 

“You defended, then?” Ben grinned. “Congratulations, I never thought you’d beat me to it.” 

“You always said it wasn’t a competition,” Evelyn replied primly, “But I think we both know how motivating some friendly... _competition_ is.”

Rey glanced between them and had a strange sensation she could not quite place. She understood the words she was hearing, but she felt as though there was a different conversation being conducted that she was not part of and couldn't understand. 

“Doctor,” she addressed Evelyn respectfully and extended her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m R--”

“Yes,” Evelyn interrupted dismissively. “Reynata, is that right? I understand Ben took a wife during his absence. Congratulations to you both, of course.”

Ben inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement and Rey let her hand drop. She noticed Evelyn was wearing stockings and dark gloves. Her own fingers were as clean as they ever were, but a ring of grease persisted in her cuticles and in the grooves of her fingerprints. She had never seen the point of formal gloves, especially the white ones mandated by summer dress. They were always filthy. 

“It’s nice to have stockings again,” Rey offered, “They’ve been in short supply.”

“Yes,” Evelyn replied curtly. “Hopefully things will continue to normalize now that the beastly war has ended. Shall we have a drink before dinner? This ridiculous heat has me feeling parched.” She said this without so much as looking at Rey. 

“If you like,” Ben gestured down the hall. “You know where the sitting room is. Still sherry for you?”

“Please,” Evelyn purred, gliding past Rey to the back of the house in a way that spoke volumes about her familiarity with it.

He moved to follow her, but Rey caught his arm gently. They locked eyes for a moment and Ben winked at her in acknowledgement before continuing.

They were three spoonfuls into a course of chilled soup when the Chancellor steepled his fingers and gazed at Rey thoughtfully. “Reynata,” his raspy voice stopped her spoon halfway to her mouth. “Leia tells us you assisted the country on the domestic front in California. This is most interesting to us.” 

Rey laid down her spoon and tucked her hand beneath her thigh. “If you mean working in the shipyards, then, yes, I did.”

Snoke nodded magnanimously. “A good many in this area moved to Detroit for the same purposes. Were you always near San Francisco, or…?”

“No, sir,” she answered. “My family are in Bakersfield, towards Los Angeles, but we came to California from Oklahoma for work when I was younger. I went alone to San Francisco when I heard there was work in the factories.” 

She noticed Evelyn’s raised eyebrow, but the redhead did not look up from stirring her spoon in the bowl without ever taking a bite. 

“You needn’t call me ‘sir’, Renata,” Snoke chuckled. “This isn’t the military, unless Ben has gotten so formal since his own service?”

“How old were you when your family moved?” Evelyn interjected. “I understand the conditions in the Plains were quite severe.” 

“That’s true, from what I can remember,” Rey felt self-conscious talking about this in front of strangers. “I was seven when we went to California, it was around ‘32 or ‘33, I guess.” 

“Fascinating,” Snoke pronounced, and the sibilant consonants in the words sent a shiver down Rey’s spine. Now she knew why Ben had used the word _inquisition_ earlier.

“Chancellor,” Ben interrupted finally. “Mother tells me the university has been seeking investment from private sources for scientific research funding. I’d like to hear your thoughts on whether that compromises the integrity of scholars’ work.”

Rey felt immediate gratitude towards her husband for throwing them off her scent, and she continued delicately spooning mouthfuls of the creamy green liquid. Snoke was holding forth on the tensions between academia and business, and Rey half-listened as she stole glances at Evelyn. The other young woman wore a pinched look of barely-concealed disappointment, and Rey wondered if she cared so deeply herself about the source of the university’s money, or if cold soup was not her favorite dish. 

The main course of roast and potatoes sat heavily in Rey’s belly, and the stone in her middle made it hard to swallow at times. The conversation turned back to her several times, and she did her best to answer their questions without airs.There was no disguising that these people were a different class than she, but she stubbornly refused to embellish her past to impress them.

Finally there was a break and she was able to force her way in with a question of her own. 

“Evelyn, you mentioned you completed your doctorate,” she began, “What is your field?”

“Comparative literature,” Ben answered before Evelyn could. 

“Thank you, _Evelyn_ ,” Evelyn said pointedly to him. “I can answer for myself.” 

“And….” Rey trailed off. “What is… that?” She had never heard of such a thing. 

Evelyn huffed a short sigh. “I means you study literature across cultures, in different languages.”

“It takes a very long time to complete a doctorate in comp lit,” Leia offered as proudly as if it were her own daughter. “Evelyn has more stamina than most of us.” 

“Yes, well,” Evelyn deferred. “It certainly took longer since I had to go stay with my aunt in Chicago for awhile.”

Rey nodded understandingly, but she had no idea what that comment meant. How did visiting nearby family impede progress on academic studies? 

“Chicago’s a great town,” Han said affably, “I could always spend a little more time there.”

“I didn’t realize you had any relatives in Chicago,” Ben said, and she noticed he was narrowing his eyes ever so slightly at Evelyn. 

“It’s funny how it never came up in all those years, isn’t it,” Evelyn replied evenly, lifting her chin at Ben. 

Leia frowned slightly and looked between her son and this woman as though observing a tennis match. 

Evelyn laid down her fork, folding her napkin and placing it next to her plate. “I’m going to go get some air,” she said daintily. “I ate far too much.” Rey stared at the mostly-untouched food on Evelyn’s plate in disbelief. She caught Han’s raised eyebrow in her peripheral vision and would’ve sworn she heard him mutter something under his breath. 

Her chair scraped the wood floor as she rose, and her heels clicked delicately down the hallway, followed by the punctuated slap of the front screen door. Rey could hear the crickets beginning to sing outside in the twilight. 

A few minutes passed and strained conversation was made before Ben stood abruptly and excused himself, mumbling something about needing a cigarette. 

“I wish you would quit smoking,” Leia said with a judgemental eyebrow raised at his back as he retreated towards the front door. 

“Perhaps I could clear the plates…?” Rey said, trying to diffuse the barely-disguised tension that now held the table hostage. 

“Thanks, kid,” Han offered her his dish first with a small smile. “Don’t wash ‘em, it’s my turn later.” 

She collected their dishes in silence, and made her way to the sweltering kitchen. Switching on the light with her elbow, Rey set the stack of plates into the deep sink, trying not to chip the porcelain as they settled. She turned on the water and just then, she heard their voices outside, below the window.

“Lyn!” Ben barked, and his voice a sharp edge to it that she’d never heard before. “What is the matter with you? We’re not kids anymore.”

“...... with me?! You’re right, Ben, we’re not…. did you _marry one_? What were you thinking?”

Rey froze and her stomach turned to a knot. She was missing words because of the water, but didn’t dare turn it off for fear of giving herself away. Cutting back the water stream helped, but she was afraid of what she would hear. 

“.... was _over_ , you ended it yourself!” She caught the tail end of Ben’s reply. 

“She’s a _child_!” Evelyn insisted again. “Can she even read?”

Rey’s mouth fell open at this. How _dare_ this woman presume anything about her?

“You’re being a complete….” She was sure of what had followed the qualifier even though she couldn’t hear him say the word. 

“That’s not what you said when you were…. me!” Evelyn’s retort had a sarcastic bite to it that twisted Rey’s stomach even further.

“Oh, come off it, Lyn, you loved every second of it. How is it you know four languages, but you can’t bring yourself to admit that you love sucking c--”

Rey turned on the water _hard_ now, and leaned with both hands against the sink to steady herself. She was quivering with hurt and the revelation that Ben and this.... this _woman_ had obviously been much more than childhood friends. 

Evelyn’s voice went higher than the water and she distinctly heard her reply, “And you need it so badly you went and married the first little slut who spread her legs for you!”

Rey clapped her hand over her own mouth at this. 

“You don’t even _know_ Rey!!” Ben retorted. “Lyn, you’re being….”

“You’re right, I don’t know her and _neither do you!_ ” Evelyn’s voice cracked slightly as she accused him. 

Rey turned her back to the sink and slid down the cabinet slowly until her rear touched the floor, circling her arms around her shins. Adrenaline weakened her muscles and she suddenly felt so, so very tired. 

They were still arguing outside, but Rey could not make out the individual words over the sound of the water from her crouch near the floor. She wondered how long this could go on before someone else would notice, or if she should return to the dining room and pretend it never happened. Evelyn’s voice punctuated the air a few times with a shrill note that Rey felt sure could’ve pricked a dog’s ears, and the deep, musical cadence of Ben’s was replaced by a pinched tone in his upper register she’d never heard before. 

Several minutes passed before the screen door opened once more, delicately this time, and she heard Ben’s footsteps in the hallway. She struggled up from her position and acted like she was washing, but she was merely rearranging the dishes in a blind fury. 

“Evelyn’s not feeling well,” she heard Ben announce to the party. “She’d rather go home early, if you don’t mind, Chancellor.” 

Murmurs of sympathy went up from around the table, and chairs scraped as the family stood and Rey heard condolences being offered. She collected the silverware in her hand and ran the tines of the forks under the faucet until her fingers felt scalded and she heard Han enter the kitchen behind her. 

“Hey, I said leave that for me, remember?” She could hear the smile in his voice and she didn’t trust her voice to answer. She nodded vigorously in reply but did not turn to face him. She delicately deposited the silverware atop the stack of plates. 

“Go on,” Han stood next to her. “And…. look, you have to just ignore them, they’re very self-important. It can happen to you when spend your whole life looking for a Excalibur in a haystack or whatever they think they’re doing.” 

“I know,” Rey whispered. “I’m going to turn in early, but dinner was lovely.” 

She was halfway up the stairs when she met Ben coming down. There was no avoiding him, but he stood two steps down so that they were eye-to-eye.

“Are you going up already?” Ben sounded surprised. “We could sit outside awhile if you like?”

“No, I’m really tired,” Rey replied quietly, feeling as though she were screaming but he couldn’t hear her.

“Alright,” he said, grasping her elbow with his thumb in the crook of her arm. “Alright, well -- get some rest. Maybe I’ll see you in the morning?” He leaned in for a kiss and she turned her head so that he caught the side of her mouth awkwardly. 

She felt a surge of rage at his assumption and she drew her arm back sharply. “Good night,” she snipped and continued up the stairs.

The attic was overwhelmingly hot, and despite teetering on the chair on her tiptoes, Rey could not reach the level in the skylight to open it. 

Locking the door behind her, she lay naked atop the covers and listened to the sounds of the household settling in for the night. She felt wide awake, though, and she rolled over several times in an effort to find a comfortable position without avail. She turned once more and stared at Ben’s desk before slowly sitting up.

He had been coming downstairs. _Why had he been upstairs?_

Rey swung her legs off the bed, and paused a moment before deliberately placing her feet on the wooden floor and standing to walk to the desk. She felt as though an invisible hand were moving her forwards, and she stood over the pile with her eyes closed, feeling under the desktop for the groove of the drawer handle. She pulled it open and opened her eyes, knowing what she’d find the second before it registered. 

The envelopes were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :: head desk, weeps :: Sorry guys...


	9. After You've Gone

She lay in bed until well after she heard the house getting going for the morning, until the light through the skylight had shifted from blue-black to grey to pink and finally, to a whitish morning sun that seemed hesitant to show its face from behind a flat layer of clouds. The office was still warm, but Rey had felt the temperature dropping overnight and she knew there had been a shift in the weather. 

Lying on her side in the narrow single bed, she picked at the embroidery on the hem of the pillowcase. The pattern was golden-yellow flowers interspersed with green leaves and a blue accent shaped like a fleur-de-lis. She wondered bitterly if this was Evelyn’s work, but concluded that neither Evelyn nor Leia seemed the type to endure such painstaking handicraft. 

Nor was _she_ , Rey reminded herself.

She had slept poorly, her dreams readily available for her to mull over, as if logic could ever be divined from the jumble of feelings they left her with in the morning. It was hard to pinpoint a single word that could sum up how she felt at present, but all of the ones she thought of-- _disappointment, confusion, resentment, jealousy_ \-- could be distilled to a childishly simple one: hurt.

The tension she thought of as the stone in her middle had shattered and diffused itself into a full-blown malady that gripped her throat, her heart, and her stomach with an ache that would not subside. She recognized it was nonsensical -- of _course_ Ben had a past, she had known this from the outset. It wasn’t the fact that Evelyn existed that nagged at her, it was the complete obliviousness with which Ben had treated Rey, as though she would somehow magically know how to navigate the waters of dealing with these people who obviously thought Rey was beneath them. He had been so eager to rush off to war, but had completely failed to defend her, to defend _them_ from the intrusion of his past on their still-forming relationship. 

Rey had a very clear picture now in her mind’s eye of the scenario she had stepped into. Leia had obviously intended Ben to wind up with someone more similar to herself, and Rey had unwittingly interrupted that long train of thought. It was only natural that Leia might be resentful towards her, and Evelyn-- though Rey was loathe to admit it -- might also have some small claim on resentment as well. 

Her body felt heavy as she forced herself upright and gathered her clothes, steeling herself for interacting with Ben’s family even though she would’ve preferred to hide in bed forever. She noted he had not come looking for her, but nor had she gone to him this morning. It was first time since they had arrived that they had spent this much time apart. 

After bathing and dressing herself, she found the house was curiously still and made her way down to Luke’s barn, where she found him bending over the Studebaker’s engine. 

“Hey,” she greeted him, and gave a tentative smile as he turned from his work and straightened. “Did you figure out what’s going on there yet?”

Luke regarded her carefully, as though sizing her up once more. “I think she took a swim,” he said gently. “It seems like it’s been underwater. How are you today?” 

Rey shrugged and toed the dirt floor. “Do you need my help with anything?” 

Luke straightened up and stretched, arms overhead. He gestured vaguely at the worktable. “If you feel like filing some more, I’d never tell you no, but I don’t think that’s why you’re here.”

Rey couldn’t meet his eyes. “Have you seen Ben today?”

Luke shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’m guessing you haven’t, either.”

Rey picked up the valve from the worktable and peered into it, one eye closed. “No, I haven’t.”

Luke nodded and walked to the door, leaning his back against the sliding door and standing half in the dark and half the light. After a long while, he said, “When Ben was a kid, he would always go into the woods when his folks would fight. Sometimes I’d find him out there after dark, curled up asleep under a tree. I would tease him that he was part coyote.”

Rey wasn’t sure what Luke was getting at. 

Luke sighed deeply at her silence. “That was pretty awkward last night, huh,” he tried. “I’m guessing he didn’t really tell you about Evelyn.”

Rey glanced at him before turning back to the worktable and turned over the tools a few times without comment. She finally said, “What do you think he would’ve told me?”

Luke blew a lungful of air out through pursed lips. “That says… more than anything I could tell you.” 

“I overheard them outside,” Rey said softly. “I know they were… a couple.”

Now it was Luke’s turn to examine the dirt of the barn floor. 

“I’m sorry that happened, Rey,” Luke finally offered. “But it’s not right that Ben didn’t mention that ahead of time.” 

Rey nodded in agreement. “I’m going to take a walk,” she said at last.

* * *

She found him in almost the exactly the same place they had lain on the bank of the creek two days before, sprawled on the grass with an elbow crooked over his eyes. A pile of envelopes was held in place underneath a sizeable rock, next to a stack of papers beneath a second rock, fluttering in the stiff breeze that had blown up since noon.

Rey instantly recognized the cream parchment paper of the envelopes.

“Hey,” Ben said without lifting his arm. “I wondered when you would find me.”

Rey stared at him without speaking, her hands in her trouser pockets. He eventually drew his arm away from his eyes and glanced at her. 

“Rey,” he began. “I should’ve told you more about…. that.” 

She didn’t react to him, letting him twist a bit.

“These letters….” he trailed off. “Evelyn left them for me while I was away.”

“I figured that out, yes,” Rey said shortly.

Ben nodded as though this was a foregone conclusion, and he looked everywhere but at her. “I made a terrible mistake, Rey.”

Crouching beside him, Rey drew the bottommost letter from the pile beneath the rock and began reading. The script was tall and narrow, very even and a bit difficult to make out at points.

_March 15, 1943_

_B.--  
There is nothing to write that I have not already said in person, but I shall say it again in the hopes that you see it and come to your senses. Had I realized you were not bluffing about the depth of your commitment about serving our country in this mad conflict, I might have held my tongue when last we spoke in the hopes that you would still be at my side. I should know by now, you are never one to do things by halves._

_But then, that has always been our way, has it not? Now that you are gone, I long for your stubborn need to always be right as ardently as for your patient sighs while you helped me proofread my woeful typing. Even our most vicious arguments now seem preferable to this interminable separation._

_My father misses you terribly; you know he regards you as nearly his own son, and I daresay he might likes you more than me. He always wanted a son, and I am a poor substitute despite my successes, however modest. As you have left no forwarding address, I entrust this missive to your mother. Despite outward appearances, she misses you very much and wishes only for your safe return --as do we all._

_Always yours,  
Lyn_

Rey read it through twice before she realized she was holding her breath and drew a fresh lungful of air, relishing the burn in her chest. It was all she could do not to crumple the paper in her fist and throw it. Instead, she drew another from the stack and started reading, more quickly this time. Ben studied her cautiously from where he lay on the ground. 

She noted the date: April 20, 1943. This was after they had first met.

_Dear Ben,_

_I trust that you are well, and that the Maker sees fit to keep you safe, but my heart is burdened as I write today’s date on this letter. You have been gone nearly two months, and I repeatedly count the days and hours back to our last fateful meeting in the hopes I have made an error -- you know I was never much at arithmetic. I pray that the stress of your sudden departure and the ongoing strain of study is simply wreaking havoc on my health, but I grow more sure with each passing day that there is a different cause for the delay in my womanly-_

Rey stopped reading abruptly and stared at the trees across the bank. She felt dizzy with -- what, she didn’t even know. Anger? Surprise? _Dismay?_ She lowered her eyes back to the page and skipped ahead. 

_I know it is foolish, but I would not trade even our angriest coupling for certainty now about my condition. You always had such a temper, but I was never more certain that you loved me than in those moments. We draw our strength from our passions, and denying them does us no favor._

_With love,  
E._

She turned away from Ben and walked a few steps from him towards the creek bank. It had clouded over and a cool wind brushed the loose strands of hair back from her face. All she could picture was gears, the ones she felt clicking slowly in her middle as a sense of what had been became more clear with each passing second. 

“Rey,” Ben’s voice startled her. “Are you alright?” 

The presumption in his question infuriated her immediately.

“No, I am not _alright_ ,” she retorted sarcastically. “I may not know as many words as Evelyn, but I can assure you _alright_ is one I know, and _not_ one that I am right now.” She felt her anger glowing like an ember in her stomach.

He had the sense to remain silent as she snatched another letter from the pile and began reading, out loud now.

_“June 15, 1943_

_My dearest Ben--_

_I have just returned from an appointment with a physician in Indianapolis who has confirmed that I am indeed expecting. (This is not our family’s doctor, as I wish to keep this a secret from those who know me for the time being.)_

_There is no easy summary I can give of the state of my emotions at present, but it suffices to says that joy, fear, hope, and worry overwhelm me in equal parts. If only I could share this with you in person, it would somehow ease the ever-present ache I feel near my heart._

_Even as I fear for what will become of me, I cannot stop myself from wondering what our child--”_

She broke off on the word, a lump forming in her throat that made her hoarse. 

_“ … what our child will look like; will he be tall like you, or have my red hair? (I know there is no way to know, but I am convinced the baby is a son.) Will you return to us, or will he grow up without knowing his father?”_

“You--you--but… ” Rey stammered now, her voice a whisper that hurt to force the words out. “You were so _careful_ with me before you left?! I don’t understand -- was I not good enough for you?” 

“Of course you are-- I was only thinking _practically_ , Rey,” Ben sat up and stared at her. “That I didn’t want to leave you with our child if something should happen to me, with no one to take care of you. Surely you can see that, right?” 

“I see you didn’t afford Evelyn such consideration,” she snapped. “How long? How long were you seeing her before you left?” 

Her husband looked down and away as though he were tallying, and her heart sank further with each passing second of silence. Rey tore another letter from the pile and began reading silently.  
__

_July 22, 1943_

_Ben:_

_It has been arranged for me to stay with family friends in Chicago for the remainder of my confinement. My figure has swollen to a point where I can no longer disguise my condition, and one of my committee members saw fit to remark on the fact that I am no longer as slender as I once was. It is difficult to express adequately how insulting such an observation is, especially coming from a male colleague upon whose favor my continued academic career rests. Our friends and cohort most certainly suspect that you the father, but I have also heard hurtful whispers that I was unfaithful to you; I know I cannot speak for your side, but I hope you know I always was (and remain) only yours._

Rey turned in a tight circle, rereading the last sentence repeatedly. In her tangle of emotions, this one struck her dumb with an unexpected wash of _sympathy_ , of all things, towards Evelyn. She felt like a yawning chasm was opening between her and Ben, with the two of them standing on one side and herself, on the other. Her world was shifting, the seemingly solid ground of two summers earlier now suddenly a mirage that shimmered in the distance, like so much illusory water that they chased as children in the drought, running and running until they lay panting in the dirt, thirstier than ever. 

Rey continued reading.

_It always felt as though I was chasing you, couldn’t keep up with either your long legs or your ambition. You were always a year older, just that much taller and quicker. I still recall the first time I realized your good-natured teasing was no longer a signal of your grudging acceptance of my constant, unsought companionship, but a sign of your growing affection for me as an equal, and as a woman. I have ample time now to reflect on scenarios of how things could’ve gone differently had I resisted your affections all those years ago, but I always conclude I would let you lead me down that path once more._

Rey dropped her hand to her side, clutching the latest letter on top of the others, under her thumb. She closed her eyes against the hot tears she could feel beginning to prick them. 

“How…. long…. were you… together?” her voice was barely above a whisper. There was a long silence where only the wind moved the trees and the water trickled over the rocks in the creekbed. It was distinctly chillier now, and Rey noticed how the clouds had darkened overhead.

“We had broken up,” he offered at last. “We broke up and got back together a lot. We grew up together, like brother and sister, but once we got older… things changed. We saw each other differently.”

His evasion was a condemnation of its own. She had a sudden mental picture of a much-younger, skinny Ben stealing a kiss from a less-assured Evelyn with a plain, long plait of red-brown hair.

“I would hope you saw each other differently than siblings before you started _fucking each other_!” Rey spat the words viciously. Ben looked taken aback at her vehemence. 

“It was once, just _one more time_ before I left,” Ben pleaded now, rising slowly as though he were afraid to startle her. “We had fought, and I thought we were through for good, but I didn’t want to leave things on those terms, and we just… because it was familiar. That’s all.”

“Do you have a…. a…. “ She could not bring herself to say the word, and she grasped at the air with her free hand as though holding something round that she wanted to squeeze until it shattered. “Did Evelyn have it?” 

She saw then that Ben was still holding one of the letters, partially crumpled in his long hand. He held it out to her with a half-shake of his head. Rey gently grasped the edge of the paper and tugged it flat once more before she set her eyes to it. Ben shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the sky, waiting for her to read.

_August 1, 1943_

_Dear B.--,_

_It is with a curious mixture of grief and elation, disappointment and a strange hope that I now write these words: I have lost our child. Two days ago I slept quite restlessly, not able to settle due to a strange ache that would not subside in my back. It worsened through the night until I got up to pace and I then discovered that I was bleeding quite heavily. I have visited the doctor here, but there is nothing that can be done. I am told I must simply wait it out, as if such a thing could be simple. I try to work to distract myself, but it seems everything is a constant reminder of what might have been._

_And yet-- despite this overwhelming sadness I cannot shake-- I feel a strange, unexpected relief that I will not have to go through the ordeal of childbirth without you by my side. I know you question the existence of a divine Maker (as do so many of our learned colleagues) but it is hard not to feel that this is part of a greater plan, that we are being puppeted in a way that will bring you back to me once more. In my imagination, you will reach for me as eagerly as you did when I last saw you, and we will forge something new to make us forget this madness. _

_Be safe, and I pray that I see you soon._

_Love always,  
L._

Rey raised her eyes from the paper to Ben’s, where he hunched slightly to peer at her eye-to-eye. “So,” she said at last.

Ben nodded and looked down. “So,” he repeated. 

“So, everything’s alright, then?” Rey wanted to bookend this strange day as quickly as possible. “Things work themselves out for a reason.”

His scowl immediately told her he disagreed. 

“No, Rey,” he shook his head, “It’s not that simplistic. I hurt her feelings, badly. I can’t just go on from that like nothing happened.”

“What do you mean,” Rey said in disbelief. “You said yourself, you broke up often? And you did break up, and you moved on. You haven’t seen her in years.” She felt as though something was slipping away from her. 

Ben nodded once, curtly, before he muttered, “Of course you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she scoffed, “Did you not hear me? I said _you moved on_ \-- was that loud enough for you to hear it?” 

Ben let out an exasperated groan and turned away, stalking into the woods. She crumpled Evelyn’s last letter now, and threw it on the grass to follow him. 

“How dare you you walk away from me!” Rey called after him, half-running to keep up with his long strides. She tripped over a tree root lurking beneath the thick covering of leaves. “I fail to see how I’m the one in the wrong here, Ben. Why didn’t you tell me about Evelyn before we came back?!”

“Because!” Ben shouted without turning around. “What would that have achieved, besides hastening this stupid argument we’re having now?”

“Are you out of your damn mind!” she exclaimed. “Did you ever stop to think what it might be like for _me_ to be around your family? Around people who think they’re better than me because they read a lot and have the luxury of studying all day?”

“The lux---” he broke off and whirled back, stopping so suddenly that she nearly ran into him from behind. “It’s a luxury to have your whole future decided for you from birth? Do you hear yourself? I would give anything for the freedom you have, don’t you see that?”

She stopped short and stared at him, her chest heaving with the strain of keeping up and yelling at him. “Freedom?! Please, tell me what you know about the freedom of having to work all day, every day until you feel as though your fingers are going to break and your back aches so that you can’t sleep -- is that the freedom you people idolize?! It’s not noble to be poor, Ben, it’s _awful_ \-- if you’d ever have asked I would have told you that! To be so hungry you can’t sleep? That isn’t freedom! It’s slavery to however you can feed yourself!”

“I never said that, you did!” he retorted, narrowing his eyes at her as though he’d lit on an unassailable truth. “You’re just angry that things aren’t neat and easy between us, but guess what, _sweetheart_ \--” Ben’s sarcasm twisted the word into anything but an endearment, “My balls didn’t drop the first time I laid eyes on you, so do me a favor, and don’t pretend like I’m like the first man to make your panties wet!”

Rey’s mouth fell open at this. “Oh,” she scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ben, I took care of myself just fine before I met you and would get along fine now!” She whirled to stalk away from him but he caught her shoulder and spun her back to him. 

“Oh, what?!” she hissed, “Are you going to fuck me here in the dirt, is that it? Show me how much I mean to you by treating me like an animal? Why don’t ring Evelyn and see if she’s free, she’s obviously not over you!”

“Don’t talk about her like you know her,” Ben’s voice was dangerously calm now. “That is completely unfair to her, given what she went through because of me.”

Rey staggered back a few steps, staring at him. “I can’t believe you would say that,” she said, her voice cracking. “I overheard you last night, you know-- outside the window? I heard all of it.” 

“Fuck, I knew it,” Ben muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“You were hardly being discreet,” Rey pointed out cruelly. “It’s a wonder half the county didn’t hear you!” 

Ben looked at her, and she could see the disgust written plainly on his face. Whether it was at her, or at himself, she didn’t know. 

“That’s ironic considering how you’re acting now,” he retorted a beat too late for it to have any bite.

“Oh,” Rey said, the fight suddenly going out of her with a rush of realization. “You -- I don’t believe this, you still have _feelings_ for her.” 

“Well, what am I supposed to say?” Ben snapped. “I can’t just forget she existed any more than you could forget someone you’d known your whole life.” 

“ _You still love her_ ,” Rey accused him, and her hands were trembling. 

“No, I… I don’t know,” Ben retorted, and her heart sank. “It’s not as simple as that.”

Rey stared at him, feeling like she was looking at a complete stranger. “How is it, then? You still love her?!? I cannot believe I’m hearing this.” 

Tiny drops of cold rain were beginning to pelt them, and Rey shoved her hands underneath her armpits for warmth.

“You still love her,” Rey repeated simply, “You can’t deny it.” 

Ben studied her carefully without speaking, his breath calming from their sparring. 

“But… _I_ love you,” Rey pleaded.

Ben shook his head like he thought better of what he was going to say. 

“I know,” he said at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who continues to read this saga! I live for your comments, your thoughts & observations, and your funny asides. It truly makes my day to see new things in my inbox. 
> 
> I'm moving to a new state next week, so the next chapter of RWIA is probably a few weeks out. But -- fear not! This story is outlined and the end is in sight. Time is just short at the moment, but I'm as eager as you all to see what happens to our OTP from here.


	10. I'll Be Seeing You

“Come home, Rey,” Jessa ordered. “Get yourself back on the train, and come back here. You can stay with me and Jack as long as you like, you know that.”

Rey cradled the phone to her ear, watching as Artoo and Threepio loped in interlocking circles in the back field. They didn’t care that it was overcast and drizzling. They were banished to Luke’s barn as long as it was wet outside, anyway. 

“I can’t just… leave,” Rey muttered, hoping no one could overhear her. “We’re not really speaking at the moment -- it wouldn’t be right.”

“Honey, I know it’s awkward, but what Ben did isn’t right, either. He let you walk in there without any warning about his horrid mother and this Evelyn person, and then he didn’t even have the guts to reassure you it was over with her? That’s ridiculous, and you know you deserve better.”

“But he’s my _husband_ ,” Rey said again. 

“He’s acting like a child,” Jessa spat, and Rey heard Jack mutter an agreement in the background. “Let him sort himself out, and come home to us already. You’re missing the best weather we’ll have all year.” 

“I’ll let you know what I decide,” Rey said noncommittally. She stood listlessly in front of the telephone for several minutes, trying to decide where best to sulk. The weather had them cooped up, and Ben had retreated to his office mid-morning. She couldn’t bear the thought of being in so close a space with him at the moment, and it was bad enough that she had realized with annoyance the previous night that he had likely made love to Evelyn in the very same bed she was now relegated to sleeping in. She had yanked the blankets off the bed in a fit, and slept on the floor, staring up through the skylight until sleep had overtaken her.

She slipped out the backdoor onto the screen porch, which was damp and chilly after three days of rain. It was just cold enough for Rey to see her breath, and she sank down on the sagging couch and pulled her knees to her chest. 

The tension in the house was gnawing at her. Han and Luke seemed to be on her side, but knew better than to get in between them. She and Ben had been cordial to one another since their fight in the woods, killing one another with kindness and pleasantries at each meal that were no deeper that polite requests to _pass the salt_ and _a little more, if you don’t mind_. It felt like a war where no weapons were drawn, but it was killing slowly her all the same. She simply didn’t know how to be in this, this silent battle of manners and unspoken truths. 

How would going back to San Francisco make it any better? If they couldn’t even speak when they were face-to-face, what chance did they have of repairing the rift between them with thousands of miles separating them? Retreating to a place she knew, but one that neither of them was from, seemed an illogical step at best, but she didn’t know what more she should be doing here, either.

Before she had a chance to overthink it, she propelled herself up and out of the porch, taking the stairs to the attic two at a time. She burst through the door and Ben turned quickly from his papers to her. 

“I”m sorry to interrupt you,” she said out of formality. “I’m just going to get my things, and I’m going back to San Francisco.” 

Ben merely raised an eyebrow at her and turned back to his desk. “Alright,” he replied, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I’m happy to drive you to the train station.”

“That would be helpful,” she agreed, dragging her suitcase from underneath the bed. The sheets and covers sat in an unceremonious pile atop the bare mattress where she had flung them earlier in the morning. 

“It’ll have to be tomorrow, though.”

Rey whirled back towards him, scowling at his back. “Oh?” she retorted. “Would going today keep you from your _work_?!”

Ben straightened up in his chair at this barb, but did not turn back to face her. “No,” he said, and she could tell he was struggling to keep his voice even. “There’s no westbound trains today -- the next one comes tomorrow.” 

“Oh,” she said, and turned back to her packing, feeling chastened. She folded her few things neatly into the suitcase, waiting for him to say something against her leaving, but no such admonishment came. Why did she want to hear it from him so badly? She was an independent creature, and he could not stop her from coming and going as she pleased. 

“Where will you stay?” Ben didn’t bother to turn around to ask. 

_Somewhere I’m wanted_. It was on the tip of her tongue, but instead she replied, “Jessa and Jack offered to put me up, and I’m sure I could go back to Maz’s if she has room.”

“Mmmmm,” Ben murmured as though he was distracted. “Alright.”

She stared at his broad back, noting how his shoulderblades moved with each breath under his sweater. His hair was getting longer, just long enough now to curl at the edge of his shirt collar. Despite the hot ball of anger in her middle, she had the urge to smooth her hands over his back. 

“I’m going downstairs,” she huffed, turning slowly towards the door. “I would hate to keep you from _working_.” She paused a moment, waiting for him to rise to the bait. 

“Fine,” he said, scribbling something on a paper before placing it in a folder. “I imagine I’ll see you at supper.” 

Rey narrowed her eyes at him and could barely refrain from curling her lip into a sneer at his nonchalance. How could he be so calm? It infuriated her. Her parents hadn’t fought often, but she recalled dishes being smashed, doors being slammed. Perhaps that was not how these dignified upper-class folks comported themselves, but Rey would’ve preferred to have this fight out in the open where she knew what to expect, as opposed to this creeping, passive freeze they were currently locked in. 

She didn’t bother with a coat, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she made her way down the slightly muddy driveway to Luke’s. Han had gone off to town earlier with Leia, so they were a miserable trio at home. 

The barn was deserted, but she caught a flash of motion in the kitchen window inside the house. The glow of the lamplight beckoned her, and she went to the back door and knocked hesitantly. 

“C’mon in,” Luke called, “It’s open.”

Rey wiped her feet on the mat and stood hesitantly inside the door. She’d never been inside Luke’s house. 

“Hey Rey,” Luke greeted her, “I figured it would be you. How’re you doing today?” 

Luke was the type of person Rey could never imagine lying to. He had an open honesty about his face that made her instantly blurt out whatever was on her heart. 

“I’m going back to San Francisco,” she announced. “I think it’s for the best, for now…” She trailed off when she saw how Luke’s face fell.

“Oh,” he said softly, nodding. “And you told Ben?”

She huffed and toed the rug. “Yeah, I don’t think he cares.” 

“Would you like to sit for awhile?” Luke motioned towards a threadbare couch next to a coffeetable overflowing with old newspapers and magazines. Rey perched delicately on the spot she could find that was least covered in dog hair. Threepio’s long, golden strands carpeted the upholstery thickly. Luke switched on a lamp whose ceramic base was chipped in several spots and missing its shade before settling into an armchair that had seen decidedly better days. 

“I’m sorry you feel like you have to leave,” Luke began, but Rey waved him off. 

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’ve got friends I can go back to, I lived there by myself for a few years, it’s not as though I don’t know the city.”

Luke nodded and folded his hands in his lap. “What makes you think Ben doesn’t care that you’re going?”

Rey stared at Luke. Was this some kind of trick question? 

“I mean….” Rey shrugged. “We’ve barely spoken in days, not since… I found out about them. And he didn’t try to stop me when I told him I planned to go.”

“Would you stay if he asked?” Luke narrowed one eye and a half-smile quirked his lips. “It seems like your mind is made up.”

Rey looked at her hands and crossed her ankles. “I don’t suppose so, no.”

Luke sighed deeply and laced his fingers behind his head, staring up at his peeling ceiling. “Do you suppose maybe Ben hasn’t said anything because he’s really mad at himself, and he just doesn’t know what to say?” 

“But he should’ve just said something in the first place!” Rey retorted, immediately regretting how sharp her tone sounded. She knew Luke was trying to help, but she didn’t want to hear an apology on Ben’s behalf from him. It was well-intentioned, but completely the wrong channel for this. 

“Well, sure,” Luke nodded agreeably. “Ben’s a lot like his dad, though, and Han tends to act first and think later. He’s gotten into a lot of scrapes that way, but he also gets _out_ of them, too.” 

“Am…. _I_ the scrape that’s to be gotten out of?” Rey’s voice quavered as she voiced the nagging worry that she could not dismiss. “He said he’d made a mistake?”

“Rey, _no_.” Luke was emphatic. “I’d give you my handkerchief, but I can’t recall the last time I washed it.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “You’re not the mistake.”

“I just….” A sob caught her voice and she could only whisper, “It just hurts so bad, it’s like it’s changed everything, every memory I have of him? I can’t stop going over it in my mind, and rethinking everything we said or did, wondering whether he ever really loved me, or if he was just running away from _her_? Or his future here, I don’t even know.”

“Sweetheart,” Luke got up and moved next to her, oblivious to the doghair. He placed his hand awkwardly on her shoulder, patting her back as though he were trying to burp her rather than comfort her. 

Rey chuckled at the gesture, thumbing the tears from her eyes but grinning at Luke. “Have you ever… been in love?” 

Luke laughed. “Of course,” he admitted shyly. “I wasn’t always the messy recluse you see before you, surrounded only by machines and dogs.” 

“But no one… special?” Rey was overwhelmed with curiosity. 

“Sure,” Luke nodded and looked at the floor. “I was very much in love with a woman I still see around sometimes. But she… married someone else.” 

“And you still have to see them around? That sounds awful,” Rey snorted. “What’s her name?”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “I called her Mara, but her name is… Margaret.” 

Rey’s smile slowly slid from her face as she recalled Leia’s words at breakfast: _Margaret is traveling at the moment and sends her regrets._

“Evelyn’s mother?” she asked. 

“I know, I know,” Luke shook his head. “What are the chances, right? If we’d stayed together, our child and Ben would’ve been cousins, and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now having this conversation.” 

Rey couldn’t resist commenting, “I bet she was beautiful.” 

“Still is,” Luke sighed. “She still is.” 

“I mean,” Rey said slyly, “Evelyn obviously got her looks from her mother, she’s gorgeous.”

“So are you,” Luke squeezed his hand over hers. “I hope it’s not strange to remind you of that. Keep your chin up, and don’t give up on him, alright? He’s acting like an idiot right now, but I think he’ll come around.”

Rey was as embarrassed as she always was when someone commented on her looks, but she smiled wistfully at Luke. “Thank you for being kind to me,” she said softly. “It means a lot, and I hope…. We see each other again.”

“We will,” Luke said confidently. “We will.” 

* * *

Rey lay awake late into the night, the storm front’s clouds obscuring her view of the stars. The floor was hard, but she had managed to fold the blankets over enough times to pad her joints from the self-inflicted insult of sleeping on the wooden planks. She rolled over and over, becoming just uncomfortable enough in each new position to necessitate moving again.

Shifting onto her back for the umpteenth time, she noticed with mild irritation that she could not stop thinking about Ben. Not just thinking about him in a general way, either; no, she felt acutely aware exactly how many days and nearly how many hours it had been since they had last… 

Rey frowned, scrunching her eyes closed against the sensation. _No, no, no_ , she mouthed silently. 

It was undeniable, though. Her body seemed to have divorced itself from logic, from everything in her mind telling her it was wrong, that she was weak, that he was not worthy of her anymore. The more she tried to stop thinking about it, the sharper her need grew until she practically shuddered at the thought of his hands on her. She threw back the covers in a huff, willing herself to lay still and keep her hands at her sides. She tried to relax her face, to count sheep, to think of being rocked gently in a boat, but none of these caused the ache in her middle to subside. 

Rey sat up, folded the blanket to the side and went to the door. She turned back once before opening it slowly, taking care to avoid the squeak in the hinge by opening it too wide. As silently as she could, she crept down the stairs to the landing where Ben’s room was, and tested the door knob. 

It was locked. Rey stood in the darkened hallway feeling very foolish, tucking her hands under her elbows. Her legs began to goosepimple in the chilly air, and she finally worked up her nerve to knock gently twice. 

Before her knuckles could touch the door a second time, it opened a crack and Ben peered out at her. 

“Rey?” he said softly. “What are you doing?”

“I…. I can’t sleep,” she whispered, and she could hear how hoarse even her whisper sounded. 

His suspicious glance raked slowly down and back up before he replied, “Neither can I.” 

She shifted uneasily and it was then he reached for her, cupping the base of her skull in his warm hand and drawing her into the room with him. Each of his fingers connecting with her scalp felt like a hot poker, she was so sensitive to his touch. 

He closed the door behind her and stepped towards her, releasing her head to stroke his fingers along her jaw. He loomed over her and pressed her back, up against the door. 

“I’m still going tomorrow,” she whispered, tilting her face up to meet his. 

“Of course,” he breathed against her, and the sensation of his lips meeting hers made her knees weak. They swayed against one another, him leaning against the door heavily with one arm above her, the other still cupping her chin and her bracing her hands gently against his chest even as her hips bucked forwards towards him.

She let her head fall back against the door as he deftly slipped her underwear down to her knees and his hand found her aching sex, the flat of his palm pressed firmly against her as he teased her with his fingertips and found her wanting.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he huffed, “You’re dripping.”

“Just--please?” Rey pleaded. “With your fingers?”

He nodded but took her wrist and drew her hand against his erection where it strained against the material of his underwear, and she took pity on him as he slipped one teasing digit deep inside her. She stifled a moan by biting her lip and concentrating on the rhythm of her hand on his cock, and he mirrored her motions as best he could between her legs. 

Rey felt she could scarcely breathe with the pressure that was mounting between her legs and she longed both for a quick climax and for this torturous pleasure to last all night. He undulated his hand against her as she stroked him up and down the length of his shaft, and when she gave his head a firm squeeze, he slipped another finger into her and pressed his fingers against her front wall. She stood up on her tiptoes at the bolt of pleasure that shot through her, twisting her hand around his slippery tip.

“Yes, right there!” he whispered, and she could hear the desperation in his tone. The heel of his hand was already pressing against her _just so_ , and when she let herself relax back onto her heels, she ground her hips against the cradle of this obscene embrace. He fluttered his fingers against her front and just like that, she was undone. Any errant thought she had harbored about the nobility of wanting to be left unsatisfied immediately flew from her mind as she squirmed and twisted between him and the door, furiously working her hand around the slippery junction of his head and shaft. 

He broke a moment later with a suppressed groan, bucking into her fist and his spend oozing out over her fingers, sliding around her wrist and a drop making its way onto her toe below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaack! Turns out you can write pretty quickly when you having nothing in your house besides a laptop and cell phone, and no one to distract you. :D


	11. Solitude

She arrived at the Emeryville depot on October 30, after a cross-country trip that felt like it had taken twice as long as the eastbound journey to Indiana. One of her elderly seatmates had remarked repeatedly how one could go East, but never West, when one wanted to. Rey had demurred and stared out the window as much as possible. Her silence had her seatmates assuming all kind of things about her: she was a war widow, she was going to meet her husband as he arrived home, her brother had deployed and been lost, she was a refugee from Europe coming to America to seek asylum.

It was exhausting how curious perfect strangers were about her circumstances. 

Ben had driven her to the station as promised. Neither of them mentioned the previous night. 

Jessa stood waving at the end of the platform, a broad grin splitting her face in two. Rey put down her suitcase and Jessa enveloped her in a hug that prevented her from lifting her arms to reciprocate. 

“Oooooooohhhhh,” Jessa groaned, “It is _so_ good to see you. I left Jack at home-- he’s been in a bit of a mood lately, but he won’t talk about it. How was your trip?”

“Long,” Rey replied honestly. “It seemed to take forever.”

“Well, yeah, when you come from the god-forsaken middle!” Jessa shook her head. “C’mon, let’s grab the Express. I’ve got something cooking for us at home, and the weather’s been great -- it’s the Indian summer at last!”

When Rey had first moved to San Francisco, she had loathed the public transit -- the crowded cars, the mingling smells of people’s bodies pressed so close against her, the occasional overflowing shopping basket on the back of an elderly Chinese woman with a dead chicken or fish staring at the passengers, how everyone ignored each other despite such close quarters. She had taken to staring at the advertisements overhead to avoid eye contact and could have repeated them from memory.

_Guard Your Health and Happiness -- Wrigley’s Spearmint Gum!_

_Good Things To Know For Your Home, Garden, Toilet, Hobbies, Office, Pets -- Woolworths Sells Everything_

_20,679 Physicians* Say “Luckies are less irritating” “It’s Toasted”_

As the war had progressed, the commercial advertisements had gradually given way to ones to do with rationing and supporting the troops.

_Is He Your Child? You don’t want this -- Buy War Bonds Before Its Too Late!_

_Do The Job HE Left Behind -- Apply US Employment Service_

_Use It Up-Wear It Out-Make It Do! Our Labor and Our Goods Are Fighting_

Now though, a wave of nostalgia swept over her to see the worn wicker seats and the tired leather straps dangling from the railing overhead. They tucked in near the back door and squeezed to the rear so that others might board around them.

Jessa kept up her idle chatter as they swayed and bumped their way across the bridge to the city. Rey nodded noncommittally at what seemed like the appropriate pauses, until Jessa broke off and grinned at her. 

“You’re not hearing a word I’m saying, are you?” Jessa chuckled at Rey’s embarrassed silence.

“I’m sorry,” Rey shook her head, “It’s just been a long few weeks, I’m really tired.”

“I could kill Ben,” Jessa said earnestly, her smile fading and her dark eyes taking on a manic gleam. “ _Kill_ him. I don’t care if he’s like 8 feet tall-- I’m scrappy. I would take him down at the knees.”

Despite herself, Rey giggled at the mental image of tiny, lithe Jessa beating up Ben. “You are pretty tough,” she agreed, and she fought the tears that welled up in her eyes as her friend grabbed and squeezed her hand. 

“You’re going to be alright,” Jessa said softly. “You’re doing the right thing, believe me.”

“I’m glad one of us is sure.”

“I am,” Jessa repeated. “I am.”

* * *

Jessa and Jack’s spare room had a low, strange bed in it, the likes of which Rey had never seen before. The thin mattress lay on an exposed wooden frame just a few inches off the floor. 

“It’s a Japanese bed,” Jessa explained when she caught Rey staring at it. “It’s called a futon -- this one was my grandfather’s. We put it in here because Jack said he didn’t spend two years in a bunk on a carrier to sleep on the floor in a Jap contraption.” Jessa rolled her eyes slightly. “It’s about the only thing he’s said about his service.”

“Ben barely talked about it, either,” Rey perched on a chair to remove her shoes. “We had to sleep in separate rooms at his folks’ because his bed was too small. But, they were regular beds.”

“They have beds in Iowa?” Jessa asked. “I would’ve guessed they all slept in barns or tents.” 

Rey snorted despite herself. “Indiana, and yes -- they had beds. They’re not... savages.” 

“If you say so,” Jessa sniffed. “Savages might have better manners.” 

Rey lay back delicately on the bed contraption, half expecting it to buckle under her. It proved to be quite sturdy, and Jessa flopped unceremoniously next to her. 

“Separate beds, huh?” Jessa asked without looking at her. “Did you still….?”

“Jessa!” she exclaimed, feeling her face flush. “We…. _managed_ , alright?”

“Ok, I’m just checking!” Jessa giggled, “No need to get upset at me -- I’m just trying to understand where everything unraveled. One day you were fine, and the next thing I know you’re calling me to say Ben has a secret lover and he’s confused about you? You can see how this doesn’t make any sense, right?”

Rey huffed and placed her hands on her ribcage, counting the rise and fall of her ribs five even times before she replied. 

“His mother…. simply didn’t like me, from the start,” she began slowly, “I think she thought Ben would come home and marry this other woman?”

“What’s so great about this other gal,” Jessa narrowed her eyes, picking at the design on the blanket between them. 

Rey shrugged, closing her eyes. “She seems very smart, and her father is someone important at the university where Ben’s mother teaches. They grew up together.” 

“Smart?” Jessa repeated. “She seems _smart_? Sweetheart, that’s fine, but men don’t like to look at smart.”

Rey shrugged again. “She-- Evelyn’s very pret--beautiful,” she concluded. “Beautiful.”

“Fine,” Jessa rolled her eyes. “So we know Ben’s not a complete dolt. He likes beautiful women,” she emphasized her plural with a nudge to Rey’s arm. “And you’re sure he didn’t mention her before you got there?” 

“ _No_ ,” Rey said emphatically. “Evelyn and her father came over for dinner, and the two of them ended up having a terrible fight outside-- I overheard the whole thing from inside the kitchen. She left all these letters for him while he was away, they were stashed up in his office where I was staying.”

“And you didn’t read them?” Jess was incredulous.

“They were still sealed,” Rey explained. “It would’ve been so obvious.”

“So Ben read them after their fight….” 

Rey nodded. “It turns out Evelyn was expecting…. after he left. He says they had split up though.” 

“Ooooh, oohohohohohoho,” Jessa guffawed as though she were a sarcastic Santa Claus. “Wow, Ben left her pregnant and went off to war?! I don’t know what to say, except... Wait, so did she have his baby? Is he a father?”

Rey shook her head. “She lost it.” 

Jessa sprawled on her back beside her and stared at the ceiling right along with Rey. Several minutes passed before Rey reached over and laced her fingers through Jessa’s, just as they’d done so many times in the park, looking up at the clouds. The fading afternoon light was beginning to tinge the room a warm, golden color. Rey could feel the stone again in her middle. 

“What will I do if he goes back to her,” Rey whispered. “I know it’s crazy, but I still love him so much.”

Jessa sighed. “Rey, don’t hate me, but… how could he have known about her being pregnant? Do you believe him that they were broken up?”

Rey turned her head and stared at her friend. “But, if they were broken up, why did he…. Why did they still…. You know.”

“What do you mean, do I know?” Jessa laughed. “You know the answer yourself. Sometimes it’s... nice when you’re angry at someone. Feels different.” She shrugged. “Besides, you said yourself he’s… a handful, maybe she just couldn’t resist.” 

Rey felt her cheeks growing warm to recall how she’d made a hypocrite of herself several nights earlier, creeping into his room. It had been different, but far from unpleasant. _They_ were different. It had reminded Rey of the unspoken tension between them before they had married, before it was a foregone conclusion that _yes_ , they would do _that_.

“How are things with Jack?” Rey asked off-handedly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask about you two.”

Jessa snorted and waved her free hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing worth talking about. He’s just been in a sour mood for almost a week now, and nothing I say or do seems to make it better.”

Rey was silent at this, stroking her thumb over the back of Jessa’s knuckles between them.

“Do you think it’s because of the war?” she finally asked. 

Jessa pursed her lips and stared up at the ceiling, considering. “I… it might be? He says he can’t sleep, that he has recurring dreams that he’s still over there, fighting, and when he wakes up from them, he can’t fall back asleep.”

“He’s probably tired as hell,” Rey inadvertently yawned as she suggested it. 

“Dinner should be almost ready,” Jessa said, and Rey could tell she didn’t want to talk about Jack any more. “If you’re hungry?”

“Famished,” Rey confirmed, and they made their way into the kitchen.

* * *

A cool breeze from the ocean blew through the unscreened window, but the fog remained offshore to reveal the twinkling stars over the skyline as Rey gazed absently out over the city through the back window in the guest room. The gleaming white column of Coit tower stood high above most of the other eastern landmarks. The rolling hills between her vantage point and downtown were dotted with light-colored buildings and trees, and the occasional dark patch that represented a city park. To the north, the swooping curves of the Golden Gate bridge were clearly visible spanning the mouth leading into the bay. She and Jessa had walked across the bridge once, buffeted by the high winds and scoured by the salt air off the ocean. Upon reaching the other side, they had gazed back at the city behind them, shrugged, and shared a hot dog from the cart on the far side by the parking lot for the overlook. Jessa had never walked across the bridge before, insisting it was something only visitors did, but Rey had nagged her until she had relented. 

She had been home now for three days, but she had barely left her room, creeping out only after she knew Jessa was gone to work at Magnin’s and Jack had left for a destination neither of the women was sure of. 

Rey didn’t intend to wallow, but every venture she made into the surrounding city reminded her painfully of Ben. Everywhere she could think to go, they had been together. She rode the streetcar that deposited her at Ocean Beach near Playland, noticing this time how much of the city she had missed when she’d last ridden it, hanging on his every word as though the Maker himself had been speaking. 

Every red-head woman she saw-- and there were a lot of them with all the Irish in the city-- had her doing a double-take that Evelyn had somehow made her way to the west coast. Jack’s numerous sisters who came by the apartment to check in on them were all translucently pale, freckled, and afflicted with a shade of red hair that could only be described as carrot. Jack himself had mercifully inherited a deeper, browner color closer to Evelyn’s, but his freckles stood out starkly on his pale cheeks. 

“I think they might hate me a little because I’m not Catholic,” Jessa intimated once while their men were still deployed. “My name isn’t Mary, Margaret, Catherine or Shannon. Or Mary-Catherine or Shannon-Margaret. I swear, I can’t even keep them all straight even though they all have the same names!” 

Rey wondered now if Jack’s sisters, more than his insomnia, might have something to do with his stony silence. 

Rey walked barefoot along the beach, carrying her shoes in one hand and stopping occasionally to poke at the odd sand dollar or empty crab shell tangled with kelp at the water line. She smoothed her thumb in a groove of a bit of driftwood the ocean had coughed up, and squinted towards the horizon where the sun was sinking to the waterline rapidly. 

That evening she skipped dinner and lay prostrate on the futon, reading by the light of the lamp when she heard the telephone ring. Jessa answered it, and after a few moments, she knocked at Rey’s door. 

“Rey?” she opened the door a crack. “It’s for you… it’s Ben.” She sounded a bit caustic.

Rey sighed and hugged the open book to her chest. “I don’t have anything to say to him right now.” Her stomach twisted at the thought of hearing his voice.

Jessa opened the door all the way and stood with her hand on the doorknob, her hip cocked and her other hand balled on it. “You can’t hide from him forever.” 

Rey stared at her friend as though she’d grown two heads.

“You said yourself you don’t know what to do without him, why don’t you at least say hi?” 

“Ulllllgh,” Rey groaned, rolling to her side and propelling herself upright. 

Jessa lingered in the hallway as Rey grabbed the receiver and stretched the cord to the door of her bedroom and fed the cord to the handset through the door before closing it with a pointed glance at Jessa -- _don’t you dare eavesdrop_.

She pressed the receiver to her ear and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Rey,” Ben breathed, “Jessa said you were asleep.”

“She was being polite,” Rey said curtly. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to make sure you got there safely,” Ben said quietly. “It’s a long way to go alone.”

Rey was silent at this. 

“Are you still there?”

“Yes, I made it, obviously,” she finally answered. “You’re still at your parent’s?”

“I am,” he said without elaboration. There was a long pause while neither of them spoke before he finally said, “Well, it’s late, and I don’t want to keep you from resting.”

“That’s very considerate,” Rey agreed. “It’s later there, so good night.”

“Wait-- do you mind if I call you again?”

 _I’m not giving you anything_ , she thought viciously, but all she said was, “We’ll see.”

"Well, alright. Good night, kid.” 

Rey heaved a shuddering breath as the line went dead, and she held the receiver limply in her hand until the dial tone began to alternate.

* * *

That night, for the first time since she could recall, she dreamt of her island. 

It looked the same as it always had: a bright green, craggy jewel rising from a stormy sea under a broken sky. She climbed the stone staircase, each uneven step carrying her closer to safety and away from the perilous waters below.

This time, though, when she reached the green plateau, she was not alone.

A hooded figure waited on the opposite side, overlooking the port from whence she’d come. She slowed her stride, unsure of this aberration. She stopped midway across the green, smoothing her hands over her hips. As usual, she had nothing with her, no way to defend herself against this spectre if it proved malevolent. 

She waited for it to move, and when it didn’t, she finally called, “Hello? Can you hear me? I’m Rey.” 

“I know,” the figure said without turning, and she felt her stomach drop. The voice was so familiar, but she couldn’t be sure. She took a few more steps forward before she replied.

“You do?” 

The figure did not answer, but slowly raised its hands to the edge of the hood, turning towards her at the same time. Rey felt like she wanted to run, but found she was rooted to the spot. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Luke said, dropping the hood to his shoulders and extending his hand towards her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break between chapters, everyone! This moving & unpacking & starting-over business is more time consuming that I could've dreamed, but things are normalizing.... slowly. So slowly.


	12. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Jessa left Rey in peace for nearly two weeks before she began dropping increasingly-less subtle hints about Rey helping out with her expenses.

“Look, I know it’s not a long-term thing, and we’re both way better than this, but it’s almost the holidays, and my floor manager let me know they’re looking for extra shopgirls for the season,” she said one more morning over breakfast. “You’re pretty, I bet you would make good sales-- it’s not much, but we get a small commission on everything we sell, and it’s a lot of fancy imported stuff, so the prices are pretty high.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with things from our country,” Jack remarked without lowering his newspaper. “Folks here need work too.”

Jessa stared at the front page of the Chronicle her husband hid behind for a long beat before retorting, “Yes, dear -- this is America, where we thrive on variety.” 

Rey pushed her toast around in the grease remaining from the hash she’d made them, not wanting to interject. Their spats were becoming more frequent, and Rey had retreated to the back bedroom several times already when their arguments had begun to escalate past the point of civility. 

When Jack made no reply, she said, “I’ll keep it in mind, Jess, but I have a number from Ben’s father for a friend of his who might have more specialized work that would use the training we got in the shipyards -- if you’re interested in slinging a rivet gun again.” 

Jessa rolled her eyes. “If I ever see another rivet or weld a bevel seam again, it’ll be too soon. But, that’s good-- have you called yet?” 

Rey shook her head. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here, but I’ll call today, ok? I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not,” Jessa said earnestly. “It’s just, with Jack still looking for work--” she looked pointedly at the newspaper, “It can’t hurt to have some other money coming in. The store doesn’t pay what Kaiser did, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe I could find a job if women hadn’t taken all the jobs while we were all off fighting your countrymen,” Jack retorted. 

“Jack!” Jessa’s tone was sharp. “We took those jobs because someone had to do them, and you know my family has been here for three generations, which is one longer than your Mick asses, thank you very much!” 

“Can I clear our plates?” Rey tried to diffuse the tension that was quickly building.

“No, you cooked, leave them where they are!” Jessa snapped, staring at the newspaper shield. “I have to get to work now, but we can pick up where we left off later,” she said bitterly, rising from her seat and flouncing down the hallway to fix her long hair into the requisite up-do.

Rey sat very still, feeling the stone in her middle very distinctly. She could feel the anger coming off Jack in waves, and she started as he slapped the newspaper onto the table and stormed from the house.

* * *

Rey waited for several hours after Jessa had left before she ventured to the phone, the scrap of paper in her hand with Han’s scribble on it. He’d come to the office door late the night before she’d left, before she’d gone to Ben’s room. 

“Look, kid,” Han had seemed apologetic. “I know I can’t you keep you here, but if you have to go, give my buddy Chewie a call. He owes me one for life, and he won’t turn you down if you want to work for him. I let him know you might call. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s fair to his people, alright?”

He had pressed the slip of paper in her hand, and nodded.

“Thank you,” Rey had whispered around the lump that had swelled up in her throat. “For everything, really.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Han had looked sheepish. “Chewie’ll treat you right.”

Rey’s fingers trembled slightly as she rang the switchboard and asked for the number. A gravelly, gruff voice answered after only 2 rings: “Bacca’s.” 

“Oh, hello--hello there?” Rey stammered, wishing she had thought through what she might say. “My name is Reynata Park-- _Solo_ , and Han Solo said I should give you a call. Is this Mr. Bacca?”

“Speaking.”

“Oh, um--well, hello!” Rey said, as brightly as she could manage. “I’m looking for work-- I’m very handy and I worked in the shipya--”

“Han said you’d call, and that you’re good,” Chewie cut her off. “That’s good enough for me. Can you come by this afternoon? My place is in Hunter’s Point-- you know where that’s at?”

“I-- of course, what’s the address?”

She scribbled the street number as he mumbled it to her. 

“So, on Gerrold?” Rey repeated. 

“Jerrold, with a ‘j’,” Chewie said. “It’s right by the streetcar stop, you can’t miss it. See you at 14-hundred, sharp.” 

The line went dead. 

Rey stared at the receiver, the steady dial tone humming until she replaced it on the cradle. Her reflection in the hall mirror showed her the dark circles under her eyes, how her hair was curling to the edge of her shoulders now, and how prominent her clavicles looked. She hadn’t slept or eaten well since returning to San Francisco, and while she was hardly one for vanity, she had to admit she looked like she was letting herself go a bit. Of course she would go work at a scrap yard -- she was obviously unfit for minding counters in downtown that were frequented by tourists and high-brow folks who deigned to come down from the likes of Russian and Nob Hills. 

Before rushing to the bath, though, she tapped the receiver and asked the operator for a number she knew by heart. 

“Kanata’s Boarding House,” Maz’s smoky voice came across the line. 

“Hi Maz, it’s Reynata Parker,” she used her maiden name. She could clearly picture Maz, standing at the telephone in the entryway, her scarves and earring and bracelets clacking together as she adjusted her oversized glasses. 

“Oh, Miss Rey! What a pleasant surprise!” Maz gushed. “Are you still in Ohio, darling?”

Rey could not repress a grin at how everyone here seemed to have no concept of anywhere else. “Indiana-- but no, I’m back visiting Jessa & her husband for a bit. How are you?”

“Oh, so soon….?” Maz’s question hung open-ended. “You should come by for a tea, dear. I have some things that belong to you here.”

“I….” Rey trailed off. She hadn’t left anything there that she knew of. “I’ll try to stop by later today, if you’ll be home.”

“Anytime, darling, anytime. You know I don’t get out much,” Maz purred. “I’m so glad you called.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, “I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

Rey squinted in the afternoon sun down the corridor of buildings that was Jerrold Ave where the tracks intersected the street. The neighborhood was decidedly rough, but nothing she couldn’t handle, she decided. She walked slowly in the shade of a few scattered jacaranda trees, looking for the address Chewie had given her. 

She stopped and stared at the forelorn building, a quonset hut that looked as though it might’ve been a greenhouse for a gardening service at one point. The small door read, “Bacca Salvage” in crude, hand-done lettering. She raised her finger to the bell, only to notice the rusted wires dangling from the bottom. She turned the knob, which was stuck in the open position, and pushed through into the foyer. 

The smell of grease, hot metal, and soldering wire met her nose before her eyes could adjust to the interior light, and she heard how the commotion inside the shop instantly paused as she stood in the doorway. 

When her eyes could render the scene in the dim light, she smiled shyly to see a very tall, shaggy man surrounded by a legion of small, scrubby-looking fellows. 

“You’re Ben’s old lady?” the man barked. One of the small men whistled a low note of appreciation, and she caught a few of the words in Spanish whispered between them.

“Am I…?” It took Rey a beat to realize this man would know Ben, too. “That’s right, I’m his wife.”

“I’m Jesus Bacca,” the tall man introduced himself, stepping forwards to the counter that was covered with a mountain of carbon receipts and small jars filled with all manners of screws, bolts and washers while wiping his massive hands on a greasy rag hanging from the back pocket of his surplus flight suit. The rag looked greasier than his hands in Rey’s estimation. “You can call me Chuy-- everyone does. These are my cousins.” He thumbed behind him towards the small army who were still frozen, staring at her.

“And I’m Rey Parker...Solo,” she said, giving a half-wave to the audience. “ _Hola!_ ”

“Han says you can weld? And that you know your way around an engine,” Chewie stated, leaning heavily against the counter. His long, black hair was shot through with a few silver streaks at his temples, and it was falling forwards over his face from where it had escaped the messy, long braid at his neck. His eyebrows were thick and wild-looking, but Rey could detect an earnest kindness in his deeply-lined, dark brown eyes. 

“That’s right,” Rey nodded, stepping forwards and placing her hands on the greasy cardboard covering the countertop. “I worked at the shipyards for the last two-and-a-half years, and before that I kept up our equipment on my family’s farm.”

Chewie nodded earnestly. “Sure. Well, you can see the whole shop-- we’re not fancy here, but I pay weekly, in cash. Two an hour. You in?”

Rey glanced at the small crowd behind Chewie, still pretending to work as they watched her carefully. “And... this is alright with your cousins?” she asked. 

“They’re family, but this is my business, and what I say goes,” Chewie said curtly. “And any family of Han’s is my family, too.” 

“Then I’m in,” Rey stuck her hand out over the myriad recycled jars to seal the deal. “How do you know Han?”

“Great War,” Chewie shrugged as he enveloped her hand with his enormous mitt. He was at least a full head taller than Ben. “Han pulled me out of a crashed plane before I could get captured by the Germans-- I owe him my life.” 

Rey nodded, and a lump swelled unexpectedly in her throat at the thought of Han. She missed his crooked smile and his bad jokes with equal fervor. 

“Ahhh, c’mon,” Chewie waved her around the counter. “Standing around makes people get delusions of grandeur. You’re not really dressed for work, but there’s an extra set of coveralls in the back. There’s a pile of stuff we just pulled out of a yard out in Stockton -- take you a few hours to sort through it, then come back tomorrow at 8:30, alright?”

“Done,” Rey smiled. “Where’s the pile? And do you have some gloves?”

* * *

It was seven in the evening before Rey found herself standing on the steps of Maz’s, ringing the doorbell of the Victorian house she had called home for the last two years. 

The door opened with a flourish, and there stood Maz in all her-- _his?_ \-- eccentric glory. Maz batted her kohl-rimmed eyes from behind the giant spectacles and reached out one ample hand to Rey from beneath the voluminous arms of the floor-length Chinese-print dressing gown she wore over her one-piece pants suit. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Miss Reynata!” Maz pecked her delicately on each cheek and squeezed her shoulders in an approximation of a hug. “Your hair smells like a factory-- are you back at work again?”

“I am, and I’m sorry I didn’t have time to clean up before I came by,” Rey apologized and stepped into the foyer. “I just started a new job today and I came straight over.” 

“A new job already…?” Maz repeated expectantly. “Here in the city, then?”

Rey nodded. “Down near Hunter’s Point, a scrapyard run by someone Ben’s father knows.”

“I see,” Maz said agreeably, and didn’t press for more information. “Have you eaten? I can finally make you something besides potato dumplings now that rationing is over-- unless you’re feeling homesick for those, too,” she suggested gently. 

“Oh no, really, whatever you might have will be fine, Maz-- no need to put out a spread on my account,” Rey assured her. “I’ll be back, let me just wash my hands.” 

By the time she returned from scouring her fingernails in the downstairs water closet, Maz had assembled a tray with jasmine tea, Mandarin oranges, small cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut away, and a pile of Piroulines. Despite herself, Rey’s mouth watered at the sight of the desserts she knew to be filled with a hazelnut creme. 

“Come with me,” Maz directed. “Let’s catch up in my room, shall we?” 

Rey had only been in Maz’s quarters a handful of times before, but each time she was overwhelmed by the contrast between the tasteful, almost restrained decor throughout the rest of the boarding house and the florid, overripe sensibility that dominated the house mistress’s private chambers. The enormous house was divided such that Maz essentially had a flat of her own on the first floor, towards the rear overlooking the tiny garden area, while the upper levels were given over to boarding bedrooms.

Maz’s sitting room had a bank of old theater seats instead of a real sofa, their red velvet worn nearly threadbare in spots and their wooden arms darkened by years of hands and elbows being smoothed over them. The dark wallpaper was scarcely visible between all the framed pictures of handsome, square-jawed young men in bathing costumes and starry-eyed women gazing into the distance. The dressing table overflowed with all manner of face creams, perfumes and makeup brushes of all shapes and sizes, and the pictures of Greta, Theda, Louise and Judy pouted from around the frame of the mirror. Maz settled onto a chaise that was nearly covered with clothes across from her, and flicked on a small lamp with a red shade dripping with a fraying fringe. The room was bathed in a low light as Maz set about pouring the tea into tiny, handleless teacups with a cherry blossom pattern painted on them. 

“There!” Maz pronounced with an air of self-satisfaction. 

“Thank you,” Rey replied, sipping gently at the scalding liquid before thinking to blow on it to cool it. “The house is quiet tonight.”

“Business is not what it was,” Maz conceded, shaking her head gently. “All you Wendys and Rosies have gone on to better places now that your men are back, and I’m mostly alone these days. Ruthie’s still here, and that old bat Opal -- she must be 75 if she’s a day, and I doubt she’s ever leaving.”

Rey nodded and delicately peeled one of the oranges. “Opal is probably a lifer.” 

“I didn’t think we’d see you back in San Francisco so soon,” Maz hinted, gazing at Rey over her own teacup. 

Rey reached for one of the sandwiches and cleared her throat. “It wasn’t clear when we left how long we’d be gone,” she offered. 

“Mmmmmmmmm,” Maz sipped and selected a sandwich for herself. “I suppose not.”

“Ben’s still with his family,” Rey admitted.

Maz nodded sagely. “I figured as much. Let me guess, the old folks in the middle didn’t approve of his independent, wage-earning wife?” 

Rey heaved a deep sigh and stared into her teacup. The acid from the orange was sour on her tongue. “It wasn’t that, exactly,” she tried. “There was a... situation with someone from his past.”

“Aaaaaahhhhh,” Maz breathed and nodded knowingly. “If I know you and Jessa, you’ve probably already dissected this inside and out.”

Rey nodded. They had, they had talked about it ad nauseum, but it never got any easier. They never came to a conclusion, except that Rey had the distinct sense that Jessa was secretly a bit on Ben’s side, and that her friend thought she should forgive and forget. Rey suspected Jessa’s current situation with Jack might be coloring her view of things, though. 

“He had… someone else before the war, and it was serious,” Rey tried to summarize as succinctly as possible. “And he says they had ended things, but she was pregnant when he left, and he didn’t know it, but then she lost the baby.” 

“Oh, my,” Maz murmured with a small shake of her head. “That is quite enough for an opera, I would say.” 

Rey sighed again. “This other woman is the daughter of a family friend, and they grew up together. I think the family just assumed they’d be together forever. And he was out of touch with all of them while he was overseas, because they didn’t approve of his enlistment.”

“Darling,” Maz smiled gently, “Please forgive me for being so indelicate, but as lovely a creature as you are, I suspect Ben was not the first young man to sow some seeds in your garden, am I right?”

Rey blushed at Maz’s directness, but she shrugged in agreement. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t have mentioned it to me?” 

Maz smiled and adjusted her glasses, which were prone to slipping down her nose. “Our hearts want different things at different times of our lives, you know? We frequently outgrow our pasts, and we have to keep moving forwards to stay alive. It is a lucky, and rare, thing to find someone else whose heart is at the same stage of wanting.” 

Rey chewed her sandwich slowly, very slowly, afraid to swallow around the lump that was forming in her throat. Was Maz suggesting she needed to move on from Ben?

“I can’t tell you what to do, dear,” Maz said as though she could read Rey’s mind. “Only you know what your heart wants. Did you know Chinese doctors believe it is the heart, and not our brains, that is the ruler of our bodies? It is our emperor,” Maz made a fist and shook it for emphasis. 

Rey swallowed finally and replied, “You mentioned on the phone that you had something of mine? I thought I had taken all my belongings with me?” 

“Ah, yes!” Maz’s eyebrows shot up. “Thank you for reminding me.” She rose from her perch on chaise and rooted through the drawer of her dressing table. “Here they are,” she remarked, returning to Rey with a thick handful of envelopes in her hand. 

Rey’s heart skipped when she saw what Maz was holding. 

_I wrote you almost every week._

“The postman delivered a few piles of these shortly after you children left for the Hinterland,” Maz said with a sad smile. “He told me lots of the soldiers’ mail went missing or was very delayed due to security concerns in the Pacific.” 

Rey’s hands trembled as she flicked through the envelopes, each one bearing her name in Ben’s looping script. Some of them looked like they had been wet. The postmarks on some of them went back to 1943.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be rude, but I think I need to be alone.”

“I figured, darling,” Maz crossed her arms. “Call again any time, and tell Jessa to come visit too when she has a moment. I miss that girl’s spunk.” 

Rey nodded and rose. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, don't get spoiled, but... have another chapter! <3
> 
> And.... CHEWIE. :D


	13. What'll I Do?

Rey threw herself into work so that she would not have time to think about the letters Maz had given her. They remained in a pile, unopened, corded together underneath the futon mattress out of sight. Subsequent trips to Maz’s in the ensuing weeks had seen the delivery of an additional twenty, bringing their number to just under fifty.

She accompanied Chewie on long drives in a modified produce delivery van to seemingly random locations to examine piles of scrap, crashed airplanes and automobiles, decommissioned locomotives and industrial waste. Chewie hummed to himself as he drove, one enormous hand on the wheel and his other, hanging outside the truck through his open window. Rey laid her cheek against the window frame and closed her eyes as the hot, dry air swept her hair away from her forehead. 

Chewie didn’t ask for any details about why Rey was back in San Francisco without Ben. Instead, he commented at odd moments on other things related to her husband’s family. 

They were headed to an orchard near San Jose one morning in early November to see about a broken-down tractor when he’d asked after forty miles of silence, “How’s the General?” 

Rey grinned. “You call her that, too?” 

Chewie snorted. “It’s _my_ nickname for her. Han took it for himself.”

Rey laughed out loud. “He said he only calls her that to make her angry. Why did you call her that?”

“Oh, same,” Chewie chuckled, a low, grumbling sound that welled up from his chest and died on his lips. “She was always just… bossy. Used to make Han so mad, but I know he liked it. Still does.” 

Rey glanced at Chewie without turning her head, catching him smiling a bit to himself in reminiscence. She blurted out her question without thinking. 

“What was Ben like as a child?”

“Ben?” Chewie repeated. “He was…. goofy, and rambunctious.” Rey was surprised Chewie knew the word.

“He was a funny kid -- had Han’s sense of humor. He grew out of that, though. Got real self-serious, you know? Once he started following in Leia’s footsteps, I mean. Especially after he started seeing that ginger girl.” 

Rey straightened up at this. “Oh?” she asked, knowing she was fishing for information she might not want to hear.

Chewie was quiet for what felt like an eternity. “I was... surprised when Han said he’d married another gal,” he finally said. “But I can see why he likes you.” 

Rey stared at her hands, as lined with grease as they’d ever been during the war. “You do?”

Chewie glanced at her, a smile crinkling the corners of his deep-set eyes. “I do.”

Rey hung on his final word, waiting for him to go on. 

Instead they turned down a long, dusty driveway lined with trees sagging with pears. “Let’s see about this Farmall, shall we?” Chewie winked at her.

* * *

Ben continued to call at random, and their conversations remained strained, with long tense silences filling the air. 

“Tell Han I say thanks for referring me to Chewie,” she said the week after she started working. “He’s been good to work for so far.” 

“I will,” Ben agreed. His voice was low, and it sounded a bit like he might have a touch of a cold. “What’s he got you doing?”

“The same kinds of things,” she replied vaguely. She didn’t tell him she had begun sending part of her wages home to Bakersfield to her oldest cousin once more.

“And how’s your work?” Rey asked out of duty more than interest.

There was a long pause where she could only hear his breathing. “Slow,” he finally answered. “It’s slow.”

 _I got your letters_ , Rey wanted to say, but she held this back. She had been afraid to open them, lest she be disappointed by their contents. She had difficulty imagining what could be in them that would repair the aching hole she felt near her heart every time she pictured herself standing on the creek bank, reading Evelyn’s missives to Ben.

Instead she asked after Han and Luke, the dogs, and reluctantly, even his mother. 

One night, he cut her off in mid-sentence as she’d been telling him how the weather had been to say, “Rey, I miss you.”

Rey closed her eyes tight, curling into herself even more where she sat curled against the wall of her room, the cord of the phone stretched from the telephone nook in the hallway. “Yeah?” she said as noncommittally as she could manage.

“Yeah,” he replied without hesitation. “I do.”

Oh, _Maker_ , Rey thought. She gazed at the futon, at her shoes neatly tucked underneath the edge of the frame, at Jessa’s grandfather’s art pinned to the walls. She felt like she might be forever confined to small rooms filled with other people’s things. The tone of his voice made her lower middle twist in anticipation.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she finally said. “I should go,” she lied. “Jessa is expecting a call from her uncle.”

“Fine,” he said, and then: “I wanted you to know, I’m looking for work out that way. Near you.”

“Alright...” she said softly. She didn’t want to let on how her heart quickened at this news. 

“It’s just going slowly-- there’s not a lot of positions open, and since I haven’t completed my thesis, my options are limited,” he explained.

“I see,” Rey said. “Well…. Good night.” 

“Sleep well,” he replied, and then whispered, “I love you,” before the line went dead.

* * *

Three days later, Rey lay sleepless in bed after Jessa and Jack had a yelling, door-slamming fight where she suspected Jack had stormed out to the safety of his family’s house. She could hear Jessa knocking about in the kitchen, deliberately clanking the pots and rattling the china in anger as she cleaned up from their half-eaten dinner. Rey had eaten with Chewie and his crew at the shop, steamed pork tamales and late-season corn smeared with butter, then sprinkled with lime and chili powder. She had never been so glad to eat in silence with men she could barely communicate with in light of how most meals seemed to end between her hosts. 

Switching on the lamp, Rey reached for the pile of letters. 

The postmarks on them were all very recent, no help whatsoever in sequencing them. She would have to open them to see their dates, and their contents, to make any sense of them. 

Rey selected one at random and slid her finger under the flap of the envelope, taking care not to tear the paper. Perhaps it was silly to be so cautious with his letters, but she always had been. For so long, they’d been the only thing she had of his, besides his ring on her finger.

She propped herself up on one elbow and smoothed the creases from the paper.

_August 12, 1944_

_R--,_

_How are you faring in SF? Kaiser must be keeping you very busy. At least, that is what I infer from the infrequent nature of your letters. All the newsreels we see praise the productivity of the Richmond yards. It bolsters our spirits to know you are all working so hard towards the same effort as we from the homefront._

Rey sighed deeply at this introduction. She had meant to write him more, she had-- but when his own letters had seemed to be so few, she had only really responded to the ones she’d gotten.

_We have been stationed off the coast of the Philippine Islands for some time now, and the days segue into one another with little variation. We are not told much by our commanding officers, but it would seem the fleet is being amassed here to do battle against the Japanese to regain control of Corregidor. Being in such close quarters with others of all backgrounds has been entertaining, to say the least. I have grown close to a few of my fellow servicemen, particularly Captain Poe Dameron. He is a man of integrity and bravery, and I can tell he longs for a special someone at home with the same fervor as I do for you._

She placed her fingertips to her lips at this mention of the handsome young pilot, wondering what his lover might look like. She pictured a beautiful, raven-haired girl with dark, dramatic eyes for him.

_As we are frequently idle these days, I cannot stop myself from thinking there might be another reason you choose not to write. While I continue to deny myself the self-pity of this line of thinking, I am not so arrogant as to believe I am the first man to profess his love for you, but I sincerely hope to be the last. I long for the few short weeks I spent by your side, every day seeming twice as long because each one was so full. I can scarcely wait to see you again._

_With all my affection,  
B._

Rey lay back on her pillow and hid her eyes in the crook of her elbow. Making him think she had forgotten him had not been her intention at all, but that this explained his odd, veiled question of her when he’d returned: _Were you good while I was gone?_

Jessa was still taking out her frustration on the dishes when Rey reached reluctantly for another letter. This one was older, written not long after he’d left.

_June 14, 1943_

_Dear Rey,_

_I hope you are well, and that you are finding your work fulfilling. A sailor aboard the Finalizer with me hails from a town near Bakersfield, called Tehachapi, and we both wondered if you had ever been there. He is a modest fellow, refusing to say much about his hometown, but he tells me there are a great many folks in that area whose families migrated from the Plains as yours did._

_In the haste of our courtship, I realise we did not spend much time getting to know one another. My letters are no substitute, but I hope they help give you a better picture of me. I have the strangest sense (for which I can offer no explanation) that I have always known you. From the first moment I saw you, I felt a connection to you. Whether you felt it so immediately as well, only you can say, but I have a distinct feeling that you were content and even pleased to let me pursue you. Without being indiscrete to past loves we each have certainly had, I think I can safely say it was a new experience to meet someone so self-sufficient that it felt like you had little, if any, use for me. As you can see from the outcome, your approach was quite effective._

A lump had welled in Rey’s throat at this admission. He thought she acted as though she didn’t need him?

_There are many things to look forward to when this war is over, but one I most look forward to is learning all the other ways you don’t seem to need me._

_Needing you,  
Ben_

“Rey?” Jessa’s knock at the door caused her to start. “Are you still awake?”

“I-- yes, it’s early yet,” Rey called, stuffing the letter back in its envelope even as she heard the doorknob turning. She managed to slip the stack back beneath the mattress frame before Jessa entered the room, but his first letter was still lying out atop the blankets as her friend arranged her slender frame beside her. 

“Sorry about all the noise earlier,” Jessa sighed, tracing Ben’s handwriting with her fingertip. “Jack is being completely ridiculous. He’s like a different person.” 

“Are you alright?” Rey ventured. “Do you think it will get better?”

Jessa was silent for a long while. “I don’t know,” she admitted at last. “I don’t know if I want it to.”

Rey studied Jessa without comment. Did _she_ want things to get better, she wondered? Rey realized she had not considered this as a possibility for herself.

“We’ve known each other so long, me and Jack,” Jessa repeated, “He was just a year ahead of me in school. It’s not as if he hasn’t known I’m part Japanese since before the war. We were just a couple of kids.”

Rey laced her fingers loosely through her friend’s and gazed at the brushwork art above their heads. Two goldfish, one white and the other orange, twined around one another in a pose that might be interpreted as love or hatred. Their bulbous eyes tracked the other’s movement, and Rey had gone back and forth many times trying to decide if she though these fish couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, or refused to turn their backs on an enemy.

“What’s this old thing,” Jessa asked, lifting Ben’s letter and peering at the date. “I don’t remember this one?”

“It just arrived,” Rey sighed. “Maz had a bunch of them.”

Jessa let her hand drop dramatically to the bedspread. “Are any of them dirty?” 

“Jessa!” Rey exclaimed. “Not the few I’ve read so far, but there’s quite a pile.”

“Why are you always so embarrassed?” Jessa sounded exasperated. “I’ve seen you in your underwear, remember? _I’d_ write you dirty letters if I were Ben.”

Rey rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away. “They’re very… modest. At least, the couple I’ve opened.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, if you want to keep reading. Feel free to share if you come across anything interesting,” Jessa shrugged. “This bed is way more comfortable than ours and I’m exhausted.” She toed off her flats and they hit the floor with a _thunk_ at the end of the bed. “Jack always liked this bed well enough before, and now he’s being an idiot about it.”

Rey turned off the lamp and listened as Jessa’s breathing became even and deeper. It was only 9:30 in the evening, far earlier than she usually went to sleep. Nearly fifteen minutes crawled by on the alarm clock beside her bed before she stealthily withdrew the bundle of letters from their place and padded into the bathroom, gently closing the door and locking it before turning on the tub. She cracked the bathroom window and lit a cigarette, blowing the first lungful of smoke outside. A breath of cool air that smelled of eucalyptus wafted through the opening as she shed her clothes and slipped into the rapidly filling tub. She periodically liked to soak until she became a prune and her hosts demanded they needed to use the toilet. This was a rare opportunity to bathe and read in peace. 

She drew the ceramic ashtray near on the lid of the toilet and dried her fingers on the towel hanging over her head before selecting another letter from the stack.

* * *

A long hour, several refreshes of the hot water in her bath, and two cigarettes later, Rey rested her head against the back of the tub. Ten of Ben’s letters lay in a stack on the toilet beside the ashtray, and she held another in her hand that dangled outside the tub.

She counted the number of accent tiles that surrounded the bathtub twice over, thirty-six in total, before her pulse slowed enough again to reread the eleventh letter. It was abundantly clear to her from those she had already read that he had all but given up on her fidelity, but he had kept on cataloging the ways he missed her as though it could repair what he thought might be broken between them. 

But this… this was the one where Ben’s normal restraint seemed to have finally, completely fallen away.

_Feb. 28, 1945_

_My dear,_

_By now you may have heard the US and our allies have retaken Corregidor. The Japanese put up fierce resistance, but they were ultimately no match for the strength of our attack. It feels as though the tide is finally turning in our favor in this endless conflict._

_Forgive my candor, but being so recently faced with mortality has us all counting our blessings and reminiscing more than usual about those we left behind to come to this forsaken place. I cannot stop thinking about what we would do if I were there, or you were here. I miss every part of you, from the odd freckle on your lower back to the lock of hair that won’t stay put behind your ear, to your permanently stained hands. I want to taste your dirty fingers in my mouth while you suck on my cock, and I will swallow my name from your lips as I fill your tight pussy with my own hand in return. I will spread your beautiful thighs and worship you with my tongue, and I will gladly fuck you until neither of us can walk anymore. I would do anything you asked, no matter how crude, to satisfy this ache that will not subside. Some men around me feel it is our right as husbands to take whatever we want, but I refuse to submit to such thinking, knowing the gift of your desire is more satisfying than any way I could force myself on you._

_I pray this is over soon so that I may make good on this promise. The nights are too long without you._

_Forever yours,  
B._

The boldness of these middle lines made her rub her thighs together in uneasy anticipation even after three readings, and Rey nudged the drain plug from its place with her shrivelled toe. Stepping carefully from the bath onto the tile, she wrapped her body loosely in the towel before peeking at herself in the mirror. Her collarbones were as prominent as ever, and her hair curled in loose waves around her face from the moisture in the tub.

Curious now, Rey raised her fingers to her lips and gingerly licked the pads of her finger tips. She mostly tasted water, but the residual grease around her nails gave her an oily, mechanical aftertaste that lingered on her tongue even after she removed them. She flicked off the bathroom light with her other hand as she propped one foot up on the toilet and reached between her legs, dragging her fingers through her damp curls, delighting in the ticklish, almost painfully heightened sensitivity there. She was surprised to find she was already quite slick despite her long soak in the bath, and she bit her lips to suppress a moan as she slipped a finger inside, gripping hard at the edge of the sink to steady herself and swaying with lust as she rubbed the heel of her hand against her mound.

Her imagination refused to stay with any single thread, jumping from one act to another, and her eyes fell thickly closed and her chin bowed to her chest to picture exactly what it would take to rob them of mobility. She panted and set her teeth when she worked her fingertips around and against the swollen nubbin, remembering how deftly he’d sucked at her until she’d come for him. The mounting fullness she felt between her legs was nearly unbearable until she thought of his ample hands gripping her waist tightly, pulling her hips mercilessly back against his to fill her with his cock, and her knees nearly buckled under her as her core spasmed from pleasure. Rey clenched her eyes closed and shook her head against it, but she could feel her upper lip curl involuntarily as she worked her jaw open and closed, gasping like a marooned fish for air.

“ _Oh_ ,” she breathed, “Oh, _fuck!_ ” Rey knelt on the bathroom rug, feeling dizzy as a satisfied exhaustion suffused her limbs. 

He was simply wrong. She _did_ need him, she needed him like she needed air. All her life, the men she had trusted to care for her had disappointed her-- her father, her uncle. But her traitor heart kept looking for another to trust, and it had found _him._

“Come back to me,” she whispered in the darkened bathroom, her consonants echoing gently on the porcelain. “Come back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG you guize. I am never writing another story with letters like this again, b/c they are so annoying to format!!
> 
> The Battle of Corregidor was February 16-26, 1945.


	14. You Do Something To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please.... don't hate me for this.

It was the week before Thanksgiving when Rey was shaken awake by Jessa’s hand on her shoulder, her friend repeatedly whispering her name with a heated urgency. 

“Rey? Rey! Reynata! Reynata Parker-Solo, goddamnit how are you such a heavy sleeper??!”

It was still dark out, but Rey lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the lamplight. “Jessa, what is the matter with you? It’s not time to get up yet.”

Her friend knelt next to the bed, already dressed for work, but she had a wild look in her eye. Her long hair was still disheveled, but she wore her trademark heavy make-up for her shift at the perfume counter. Her eyeliner swooped up in a dramatic wing away from the corner of her eyes, giving her a feline countenance. 

“I need you to do me a favor,” Jessa pressed Rey’s hand between hers to lend a sense of sincerity. “A… guy is going to come by a bit later to pick Jack up for work, and you have to make sure he goes.”

“What guy,” Rey was still half asleep and this wasn’t making any sense.

“Someone in Jack’s family, alright?” Jessa whispered. “I can’t stand him, though, so I’m going to work early, it’s too awkward to be here when he’s around.”

“Jess, what? This is one of your in-laws?” 

Her eyes flew open as Jessa shook her hard once more. “Wake up, Rey,” she commanded. “You’re not listening. Jack won’t want to go with, but you need to make him. I arranged for him to work for his uncle in the family business. He’s never wanted to before, but I can’t stand having him moping around all day anymore, okay? I pulled some strings.”

“At… the mortuary?” Rey was incredulous. She could think of at least ten Irish-owned mortuaries in the west part of the city alone, and she was never sure which belonged to Jack’s people. All of them had complicated, compound family names like Duggan-O’Hara or Fitzgerald-Kennedy-McCarthy. Jessa had once joked that the only thing the Irish could agree on was the business of procreating, drinking, and putting people in the ground.

Jessa rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Yes, the funeral home, what else could I possibly mean?” 

“So you talked to his uncle? I just don’t understand, why can’t you be here to convince him yourself?” 

“I talked to his cousin, his uncle Padraig’s oldest boy, and he owes me one,” Jessa huffed. “Can you please just do this one thing? Please?”

“Alright, my goodness!” Rey threw back the covers and sat up, rubbing the heels of her hands in her bleary eyes. The night sky was just beginning to fade to pink and a single star still twinkled towards the west, over the ocean. She had sat up quite late talking to Ben on the phone the night before, but now she remembered hearing Jessa returning even later in the evening. “Where were you last night, anyway?”

Jessa went very still and smoothed her palms down her thighs under her uniform's skirt. It was then Rey noticed how her hands were trembling slightly. Jessa glanced up at Rey a couple times and worked her mouth as if to speak before she finally said, “Rey, if I tell you this, you cannot tell _anyone_ , do you understand me?”

Rey frowned and reached for Jessa’s hands, but her friend snatched them from her and tucked them under her armpits. 

“Of course not,” Rey promised, “What’s gotten into you this morning?”

“Look, Jack’s cousin is…. An odd guy, alright? You’ll see when you meet him. I honestly don’t even know if he’s really Padraig’s son, or just a kid from their village in Ireland who they said was their relative so he could come to America, okay? All through school we all thought maybe he was a little touched, even?” Jessa’s eyes darted around, but she never met Rey’s eyes. “But, he was always a little sweet on me. So, I went to talk to him last night, and we… came to an arrangement.” 

“Okay….” Rey prompted her, drawing her own knees to her chest and encircling them with her bare arms. She didn’t understand yet what was so secret.

Jessa’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “I was faithful to Jack the whole time he was gone, right? And that counts for something. I know you know how hard it was. But, it’s been so bad since he got back, we haven’t really… it’s not like it was for you and Ben. So I went over to the mortuary last night on my way here looking for Padraig, but he was already gone home, and I ran into Maitiú instead.”

Rey had a sinking feeling now in her middle, but she waited for Jessa to continue. 

“He’s a big fellow,” Jessa grinned sheepishly, “At least as big as Ben -- you’ll see when he comes over. He’s got these meaty, calloused hands that are always kind of dirty from digging. We used to joke in school, you know, whether you could tell how... big a man is by the size of his feet or by his hands, and that’s all I could think about while I was trying to convince him to ask Padraig to give Jack a chance, and then… he suggested another way I could convince him.”

“So you….” Rey’s eyebrows were in her hairline. “With Jack’s cousin?”

“Not like _that_ ,” Jessa flushed, “But I let him feel me up. And…” Jessa shook her head with a grimace. “Rey, I’m a terrible person, but _I liked it_. I didn’t want to, but it’s just been so long and he was kind of rough and I guess I’ve always been a bit curious about him? But now I can’t even look at Jack this morning. And I can’t stop thinking about it, either. The smug look on his dumb, four-eyed face when I came? It’s all I can picture.”

Rey sighed and looked at her knobby, scarred kneecaps. “What time is he coming by?” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Seven-thirty,” Jessa glanced at the alarm clock. “There’s a funeral at the Irish cemetery down in Colma at nine this morning, and Maitiú said they need more diggers.”

Rey looked reluctantly at the alarm clock. She had forty-five minutes to get ready before this person would arrive, and she didn’t know how she would be able to look him in the eye. 

“Look,” Rey said firmly, “I have to be on the 7:57 bus to make it to work on time. If Jack’s not up and out by then with his cousin, I have to leave. Jack has to take responsibility for himself sometime.” 

“Thank you,” Jessa whispered earnestly. “Please, don’t judge me, Rey -- I just needed to tell someone. It’s not a regular thing, and I did it for us. Really, I did.”

“Of course,” Rey replied, but she couldn’t meet her friend’s eyes. “I’ll do what I can.”

* * *

When the doorbell finally rang at 7:40, Rey had not yet seen Jack emerge from the bedroom. She pressed the buzzer to let Maitiú up. She was still pulling her hair into a ponytail when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

Rey peered through the peephole, only to see someone standing so close she couldn’t discern their face at all. The person wore a grey-brown fisherman’s sweater with an orange utility vest of some sort on top of it. She sighed deeply and opened the door a crack without taking the chain off.

“Hello,” she said, looking up at the strange man outside their door. 

He scowled at her through thick lenses in square wire frames, the prescription making his brown eyes look unnaturally large. His unkempt, wavy strawberry blonde hair stood on end, and she couldn’t help as her gaze traveled down his arm to examine his thick, dirty paw that hung at his side. Jessa was right, he did have big hands. She swallowed imagining her friend beside this beast standing outside their door. 

“Who’re you?” he demanded, his deep voice tinged with a slight lilt that betrayed his origin. 

“I’m Reynata, and I’m a friend of Jessa and Jack’s,” Rey explained, “And you must be Maitiú?”

He worked his ample lips as though her questions confused him and huffed. “Yeah, I’m Matt,” he finally answered.

She closed the door quietly and removed the chain, swinging the door wide for him to barge through the door. He halted just inside the living room, clenching his fists at his side like he was looking for something to slug, and occasionally shoving his glasses back up his nose. 

“Where’s Jessa,” he asked after a moment. “I gotta get Jack and get going.”

“Right,” Rey steepled her fingers in front of her as though she were reasoning with him. “Jessa’s already at work, so I’m going to help you get Jack off with you. Alright?”

Matt looked slowly at her, almost as though he’d forgotten she was even there. “Where’d you come from, anyway?” he asked abruptly as gaze raked slowly up and down her frame, and she crinkled her brow in confusion. 

“I lived in Bakersfield before I moved here, if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied, edging around him towards the master bedroom door that was still firmly closed. His hulking size was making her uneasy, but she noticed how he hunched very slightly as Ben did. The timbre of his deep voice was uncannily close to Ben’s as well.

“You’re one of those Okies, then?” Matt nodded at her. “What’s your family name?” 

“It’s Parker,” Rey replied, wondering where this line of questioning was leading. She glanced at the clock and a pang of anxiety hit her stomach. She hated being late and time was running short. 

“Parker,” Matt repeated, shoving his enormous hands in the pockets of his vest. “Sounds English. You got any Irish in you?” 

“I don’t believe so, no,” Rey answered. 

Matt leered at her and pushed his glasses up once more. “Would you like some?”

Rey’s mouth fell open in disgust at the insinuation. “I’m fine, thank you very much,” she scoffed. “I’m married anyway, not that it seems to bother you.”

Matt chuckled slowly, a grin stretching his odd, long face into a semblance of happiness. Rey noticed his smile never reached his eyes. “You can’t blame a man for trying, can you?” 

Rey scowled at him. “You’re a monster!” 

He only closed his eyes gently in response, one eyebrow raised in cool amusement at her show of anger. “Only one way to find out if that’s true,” he hinted relentlessly. With that he stepped past her and opened the bedroom door without knocking, barking something she couldn’t understand in Irish at Jack. 

“Oh, fuck yourself, you sheepshagger,” Jack mumbled weakly from behind the door. 

“John Joseph, you have six minutes to get dressed before I come in there and dress you myself,” Matt continued in English. “We’re due in Colma at eight-thirty to dig for Siobhan’s cousin.” His accent collapsed the t and the h of _thirty_ into a breathy consonant so that it rhymed with _dirty_. He smirked at Rey and shook his head, mouthing _nine_.

“I thought Jessa said nine,” Rey whispered furiously. She hoped they didn’t plan on hanging around here any longer.

“Irish time,” Matt whispered back, “Only way to get us anywhere on time.” 

Rey rolled her eyes at him and rapped gently on the door herself. “Jack?” she called. “Jessa really wants you to give this a try, alright?” 

“Oh yeah?” Jack sounded sarcastic. “Then why isn’t she here to get me up herself?”

Rey and Matt glanced at each other before they answered in unison, “Work.”

“Uuuunnnnggggffff,” Jack moaned, and Rey briefly pitied him, wondering if he’d had too much whiskey at the pub. Again.

“You don’t wanna disappoint Jessa, do you?” Matt tried a different tact. “I mean, more than you already have? You know that girl would do anything for you.” He glanced at Rey and she narrowed her eyes at him.

_He knew. He knew that she knew!_

As if he could hear her thoughts, Matt placed one thick index finger to his lips and shook his head at her. Rey glanced at the clock built into the back of the stove, across the hall in the kitchen. It was already nearly time for her to catch the bus.

“I don’t want to make you late,” Matt muttered. “Go, I’ve got him under control.”

She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head and grabbing her lunchbox from the counter. “You’d better get him up,” she lifted her finger in warning at Matt. 

“I will,” Matt replied. “And tell Jessa thanks for me.” _Tanks._

“You’re disgusting!” Rey whispered vehemently, closing the apartment door between them. She paused for a moment, listening to Matt continuing to berate Jack in Irish, and then she bolted down the stairs as she heard the telltale stuttering whine of the electric bus coming over the hill down the street.

* * *

It was well after dark before Rey crept to the phone that evening and dialed Ben for the first time since she had returned to San Francisco. Her heart fluttered when his deep voice came across the line: “Solo.”

“It’s me.”

“Oh, hey kid,” he breathed. “It’s late, I didn’t think we’d talk tonight.”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Rey set her teeth. She didn’t want to annoy Han and Leia. 

“Not at all,” Ben said. “I was still working. What are you up to?”

“Just…” Rey stared at the ever-growing stack of his letters opened on her bed. “Reading.”

“Anything interesting?” he asked. She heard some papers shuffling in the background. 

“It’s… your letters,” she admitted. “They started arriving, finally.”

There was a long silence from his end before he said, “No kidding. It’s about time.” 

Rey chuckled. “No medals for the postal service, I guess.”

Ben laughed sardonically. “Not right now, no. I’m glad they finally got there.” 

“Ben…” Rey scrunched her eyes closed. It was so hard to talk to him about anything serious like this. It was bad enough when they were face to face. “I want you to know, I waited for you. I did.” 

She heard his sigh, followed by another deeper sigh, like he was trying to keep from crying. The sound made her shiver and she drew her sweater tighter around her. When he didn’t say anything in response, she asked, “How’s it coming with finding work out here?”

Ben cleared his throat, but he still sounded hoarse as he answered. “There might be something at the city junior college, a lecturer position for the next semester. It would start in January.” 

“When will you know if you got it,” Rey asked. She realized she had no idea what it took to get work at a college, or what the difference between college and university really was, either. 

“Not until mid-December,” Ben replied. “It wouldn’t be much time to get out there, but I talked to Captain Dameron and he offered to let me stay at his place for awhile until I could find a place… or we could find a place.”

Rey swallowed and closed her eyes at this suggestion. “We’ll see what happens, I guess,” she said softly. “I hope you get it. If you want to, of course.” 

“I do,” he replied without hesitation. “Has Jack found work yet?”

Rey’s heart sank a little at the mention of Jack. Neither he nor Jessa had returned from their respective whereabouts yet. “It’s… complicated.” She was loathe to divulge Jessa’s secret, especially given the sentiment of Ben’s letters and the general state of their own relationship. “Jessa arranged for him to work for his uncle’s business for a bit. He just started this morning.”

“The funeral business?” Ben sounded surprised. “I don’t recall him being too excited about that.”

“He’s not,” Rey confirmed, “But it’s something, at least.”

“I bet the work is steady,” Ben said noncommittally. 

Rey laughed despite herself and replied, “It’s true, people are dying all the time. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the Irish had so many kids just to keep the funeral businesses going.”

To her surprise, Ben brayed with laughter at her assertion. She realized how long it had been since she’d heard his laugh, and how much she missed it. “Rey, that is grim! Who knew there was a cynic inside you?”

“You say cynicism, I say pragmatism,” she countered, picking at a ball of lint on the cable of her sweater. 

“Maybe you’re cynically pragmatic,” he suggested, and she could hear the edge his voice took on. He loved to spar verbally. 

“Is that better than being pragmatically cynical?” she asked, playing along even though she knew this was nonsense.

“I think that depends,” Ben replied. “Maybe you need to write an essay comparing and contrasting the two modes of thought and come to your own conclusion.” 

Rey snorted. “Oh, so if I were your student, you would give me homework to figure it out?”

There was a beat of silence before he said, his voice quite low, “If you were my student, I... would have to wait until the semester was over to give you the assignment I have in mind.”

Rey clapped her palm over her open mouth and closed her eyes. She squirmed as uncomfortable warmth began to build between her legs at his assertion.

“Are you still there,” he asked softly. 

“Uhh…. uh, huh!” Rey found she could barely think straight. “Um, and what ah…. What kind of final examination do your classes usually have?” She cringed at how this sounded, hoping she was using the right words. 

Ben cleared his throat again. “Exams are usually written, but in special cases I can make an exception and have the student submit an... oral examination.”

She looked at the painting of the goldfish and asked, “And have you ever…. made an exception like that?”

Ben huffed, and she heard a small, wet sound as though he was sucking at his lower lip. “No, but I’ve never had a student in your situation, either.” 

“I…. I hope you get the position here,” Rey blurted out. She was breathing a bit hard, imagining what this exam might entail.

“So do I,” Ben whispered, then: “You know, your absentee status doesn’t prohibit you from doing independent study. I would certainly encourage you to… explore this topic at your discretion.” 

“Oh, really?” she said coyly. “Would I have to submit a report later?” 

She could hear his smile in his tone when he murmured, “I would love to read that.”

Rey felt her cheeks glowing as she replied, “Well, maybe I should get started, then. It sounds like you have things to take care of, too. I don’t want to keep you.”

“Enjoy your research, Rey,” Ben said. “I wish I were there to supervise your methods.”

She swallowed hard, the hot tension between her legs unbearable at the thought of him watching her. “My methods are sound,” she managed. 

“We can review methodology another time,” he replied. “Good night, Rey.” 

“Goodnight,” she whispered, placed the phone in its cradle and crawled to her bed to begin her independent work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt the Graveyard Technician is a creep. :: ducks and covers ::
> 
> Ben may be ABD (all but dissertation) but he seems to have already earned his doctorate in nerd-flirting. Guh.


	15. Baby It's Cold Outside

Business remained brisk even as the weather inevitably began to turn from the long, sunny dry days of autumn and began to slip into overcast, occasionally rainy ones. When rain kept them from making salvage trips, Chewie’s crew huddled inside the quonset hut, their sorting and scrubbing dimly lit by the skylight panels and a few naked bulbs dangling from cords wrapped inelegantly around the wooden structural beams. Rey’s smaller hands came in handy for parts with narrow openings and she gladly turned over ones that required the brute strength of a man’s hands to her fellow scrappers. Chewie’s cousins had treated her with a silent suspicion at first, reluctantly including her at the degreasing bath table, and shoving the most rusted, corroded pieces her way without comment. She had accepted their offerings without complaint, scrubbing and returning them as quickly as she could, and they gradually began distributing the worst tasks evenly again. Her wedding ring hung on a chain borrowed from Jessa under the bib of her coveralls for safekeeping.

She had been working at the shop for nearly a month before Hector asked one afternoon, “Miss Rey -- where your husband is?”

Rey looked up in surprise. She knew the men spoke more English than they let on, preferring to speak Spanish around her, but she was comfortable with the amiable silence of working together. There wasn't much to say about soaking grease off of metal, anyway.

“My husband is with his family, in Indiana,” she answered simply. She caught the looks between the men and a couple of them clucked their tongues.

“ _Ind-inanna_ ,” Hector sounded it out, chuckling at his own mistake. “Far, no? Is far away?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It’s very far from here. But, he may come here soon.”

Another murmur went up from around the table as her statement sunk in. Her Spanish was very limited, but she could tell the crew did not like this arrangement.

“He’s looking for work, here,” she pointed to the ground for emphasis. “In San Francisco. He’ll be here soon.”

In truth, she didn’t know that. The deadline for applications at the city college was December 10, and that date had come and gone several days ago. Ben still hadn’t heard anything about the position. She had no reason to doubt him, but she couldn’t ignore the tiny, nagging thought in her mind that he might be leading her on, or the constant worry that he wouldn’t find work here and she’d be forced to go back. She knew how it probably looked from the outside.

Chewie leaned back in his chair, peering out the office door where he sat combing the newspaper listings for promising offerings and military divestment notices. “Hey! Hector -- mind your own business, alright?” Chewie’s gruff tone cut the talk short. He continued in rapid-fire Spanish, and she only caught “Han Solo” and the word for son before Chewie returned to his work and they fell into silence once more.

A few days later, a small package lay atop her lunch bag at the end of the workday. It was wrapped in tissue paper, and Hector shyly nodded at her, making a gesture towards her. Unwrap.

“Feliz Navidad,” he said. “From my family to you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, “Gracias.” She tore the paper delicately away from the flat object, revealing a stamped tin tree ornament with a thin paint job in bright colors. It was a parrot, Rey recognized the bird from books about wildlife, its long, fancy tail fanning out behind it and the prominent, hooked beak done in a yellow-orange enamel. It felt impossibly delicate in her palm. “Thank you,” she said again. “Did you make it?”

“My wife,” Hector nodded. “For your tree,” he explained. “In Mexico, we have metal ones.”

“It’s beautiful,” she traced the lines on the bird’s body representing its wing. “Muy hermoso,” she repeated.

Several more ornaments appeared in the coming days from other families, bringing the menagerie to a well-rounded spectrum of animals including an armadillo, a donkey, a lizard, and finally, a star with a mirror embedded in the center. Rey hung each one from a small pine wreath on the door of her room, the needles diffusing their scent in the humid air.

“They’re incredible,” she described them to Ben one evening on the phone. “I’ve seen them around before, mostly down south, but we never had a tree, so there was no point in buying them… It was too nice of them to give them to me.”

“It’s alright to have nice things, Rey,” Ben said gently. “You deserve them as much as anyone, and it sounds like they respect you.”

Rey blushed and scrubbed her bare feet together. “I guess?”

“Your family never had a tree?”

“No,” Rey admitted. “There was always a reason-- no space, we were moving too often, my mother was sick-- but I know the real reason was that we had no money.”

He was quiet for a long time at this. Finally he said, “Rey, I know I never asked you about that, but if you want to tell me about it, I’d like to know.”

“What part do you mean?”

“All of it.”

Rey bit her lip, imagining them in the woods, how she’d accused him of being jealous of her poverty. It seemed very silly in hindsight, but she felt a glimmer of the same rage again at his question. It was impossible to explain adequately to someone who had never experienced it.

“I don’t know if I can,” she eventually answered. “I try not to think about it, to just put it behind me. I was lucky-- I got out.”

“Alright,” he acquiesced easily. “But if you do, I’d listen.”

* * *

 

Christmas Day dawned mild and surprisingly sunny, and when Rey opened the door to her room, she found a small, wrapped package from Jessa outside. The box contained a tiny bottle of what Rey recognized to be an expensive French perfume. The note inside made her giggle.

_Rey -- So that you can pretend to be a fancy lady of the night upon Ben’s return. Love, J._

They were due at Jack’s family’s house in the Sunset for Christmas dinner beginning at four, but family obligation had them setting out at half past noon to join the fray of overly-tired children who’d been dragged to midnight mass by Jack’s legion of sisters, cousins and aunties. Like Jessa, Rey had a difficult time keeping the multiple Shannons, Marys, and Catherines straight, especially when each seemed to be bouncing a drooling baby on their hip while smoothing another’s hair from their foreheads while somehow also swigging liberally from a tumbler of whiskey. It was like they had grown extra arms with each new child.

Jessa looked resplendent in a knee-length dress, a dark burgundy color that bordered on brown with a deep v-neck and a beaded cardigan pulled over her shoulders. If she were honest, Rey had always been a touch jealous of Jessa’s dramatic looks, but she could not fault how her friend seemed to be glowing as she nestled against Jack on the streetcar and held his hand walking into his parents’ house. Things seemed to be settling down between them, and Rey ascribed it in large part to Jack’s work. Jessa had not mentioned Matt again, and Rey kept her suspicions about their arrangement to herself. She wondered idly if Matt would be at the gathering as the streetcar crested the final peak and let them off with a view of the ocean stretching endlessly to the west.

The small house seemed even smaller with all of them crammed inside it. Uncle Padraig wore his tweed hat inside the house until Jack’s mother Aoife berated him sufficiently to remove it.

“You can wear your cap when you’re off digging, but this is Christmas and you’re in your sister’s house-- take it off! At least pretend like you have some manners,” Aoife griped, but Rey could tell she enjoyed the chaos.

Padraig looked sufficiently contrite before snaking his arm around his sister’s back to pluck a cherry from the ham where it sat cooling on the stove. “You’re the boss in your house,” he agreed, chewing open-mouthed at her.

“And you kissed our mother with that mouth?” Aoife scoffed, slapping his cheek playfully.

“Merry Christmas, sis,” he pecked her ruddy cheek gently.

Jessa set to playing with the children, each eager to show her their new toys. Her dress pooled around her in a circle on the floor, and Rey hung back with a glass of whiskey someone had shoved in her hand. She hated the smell of the stuff, but she had to admit she felt more relaxed after a few sips had burned their way down her gullet. Perhaps this was why Uncle Unkar had drunk so much of the stuff. A houseful of children was enough to put anyone’s nerves on edge.

Rey was smiling to herself with her glass curled against her chest when she noticed Matt standing at the edge of the room. He hunched and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed as he surveyed the scene. His fair hair still hung over his forehead and a bit into the edge of his glasses, but his shabby sweater had been replaced by a sweater vest over a shirt with a tie, and Rey could tell his shoes had been polished as much as the leather would allow. He caught her looking and stopped chewing his lip for a split-second to nod at her in greeting. She returned the gesture with a slight tilt of her glass in his direction before turning her attention back to the fray.

Dinner wound on with endless rounds of toasts and prayers and givings of thanks for the togetherness of family, the end of the war, the grace of the Maker and of course, whiskey. Jessa winked at her from across the table when Uncle Mike lifted his glass for a third salute to Jack’s brave service and safe return. Rey took another piece of soda bread to soak up the the liquor that was rapidly making her overly warm and sluggish.

Hours later, after an impromptu music session had begun with Padraig fiddling drunkenly and Mike accompanying on a tin whistle, Rey slipped out the back door to cool her sweaty skin in the dusk. The horizon was still faintly glowing pink, but the sun was quickly sinking from view. She lit a cigarette and gazed up at the stars beginning to come out. It was a rare, clear night where the cloud bank remained offshore revealing the twinkling heavens. She could pick out the three distinct stars of Orion’s belt in the southern sky, perpendicular to the horizon as he traveled through the winter sky. Rey swayed drunkenly between the sheets still hanging outside on the clothes lines to dry, her kitten heels sinking slightly into the sandy, loose soil. She heard the back door of the house open, but by the time she looked, it was closed and the person was nowhere in sight. The children had been running laps through the house earlier, looping through the front door, out the back kitchen door, then around the house to repeat their path until one of the many Marys had threatened to whip them bare-bottomed if they didn’t stop.

Her cigarette was down to the butt, and she threw it down to grind it out. Reluctantly, she dragged up to the back steps to return to the melee. Just as she placed her hand on the back door’s knob, she heard a sound that stopped her short. It sounded like someone sobbing, and immediately she backed down the stairs to try to locate the source of distress. There were a half-dozen concrete stairs that lead beneath the house to a basement where Rey knew the laundry to be, and again she heard a muffled cry. She placed her empty glass on the back stoop and crept down the steps, wondering if one of the children had fallen and scraped a knee or worse, knocked out a tooth. The lights were off in the basement, and when Rey tried the door, she discovered it was locked from the inside.

Feeling thick with too much ham, potatoes and whiskey, she shook the door slightly in frustration. The sound had not abated, but she didn’t know of another interior entrance to the laundry. She ascended the stairs and crept around the side of the house until she found a window, and knelt down to peer inside.

Her brain could not immediately process what she saw in the fading light, but she straightened up instantly when her stomach pinched in recognition of the scene. It was burned into her mind’s eye, but she could only recall very specific details that came over her in repeated waves as she froze in her crouch beside the house.

The two figures pressed together against the interior wall in the darkness were hard to make out, but Rey could not stop seeing Matt’s tie, slackened and flung over his shoulder and his huge hand, fingers splayed against the wall beneath her friend’s bent knee, hitched up at an impossible angle between them while Jessa’s red skirt fanned out over his forearm and her panties and stocking rested around the ankle of her standing leg, draped over the shoes she had borrowed from Rey.

A million thoughts tumbled through Rey’s mind-- _get Jack, no don’t, did they see me, is he hurting her, does Jack know_ \-- but none of them could jostle her from her vantage point. She heard Jessa’s breath hitch again, and she recognized immediately that what she had thought was crying was anything but.

Against her better judgement, she swallowed and glanced through the window once more. It was nearly dark now, but she could clearly make out Jessa’s slender hands threaded around Matt’s neck and into his thick hair where he bent his head to her neck. Jessa’s eyes were closed and her jaw was slack, and the loose material of her skirt telegraphed the movement of Matt’s hips against hers. Rey stood quickly, dusting the sandy soil from her knees and stumbling wobbily around the edge of the house to the front sidewalk. She couldn’t stand to hear them any more, their sounds like a track out of sync with a film she never wanted to see.

She felt strange, very strange, and she knew it wasn't just from the drinks she’d had. The urge to shout what she’d seen to anyone who’d listen was overwhelming, but she simultaneously knew that if anyone had startled her, she would barely have been able to peep in response. She found she was trembling, and she sank down on the bottommost stair up to the front door, hugging her knees to her chest. It had barely been a month since Jessa had woken her and sworn her to secrecy about her arrangement with Matt, but now Rey was burdened with knowledge of a secret far worse. It was very nearly the same sensation as when she’d overheard Ben and Evelyn arguing, and she found she was suddenly, terribly angry, at Jessa for inadvertently reminding her of that moment. She could still hear the music inside, and shook her head slightly in disbelief at their boldness to do something like this _here_ , with the entire family upstairs. _Jack_ was upstairs, for goodness sake!

Again she turned over the unpleasant possibility in her mind that Matt might be forcing Jessa to comply, but she closed her eyes and breathed, open-mouthed, knowing what she had seen did not support that.

Rey braced her hands against her forehead as she see-sawed between possessive protectiveness for Jessa, to righteous anger at Matt for leading her friend down a path to adultery, to sympathy for Jack’s oblivious self-centered nature since returning from his service, and finally back to disgust at Matt and Jessa alike. Her stomach was roiling with too much salty ham and whiskey, but she finally dragged herself up the front steps and back into the uncomfortably close, warm living room.

The family had taken up a drunken harmony together, and Rey edged her way around the crowd to the kitchen, where Jessa stood in the doorway. She cringed as she passed Matt where he stood behind his teenaged brothers.

“Hey, there you are!” Jessa said brightly when Rey reached her. “I was wondering where you got off to!”

Rey shrugged and said only, “I had to get some air, I went out front for a bit.”

“Is it chilly?” Jessa asked without looking at her, raising her voice over the ruckus and clapping in time with the song. “I felt like I was getting a chill, so I put my scarf on a little while ago.”

“I think it’s just you!” Rey replied, clapping now herself. “It feels pretty warm in here to me!”

“Maybe I’m catching something,” Jessa suggested. “I might stay home from work tomorrow if I’m not feeling well.”

Rey made no reply, but continued clapping along as she studied the toe of her shoe to avoid looking at either of them.

* * *

 

Ben rang the day after Christmas, and Rey held her breath as she took the phone from Jack. She felt sick just looking at him.

“Rey,” Ben sounded like he’d been running. “The college called-- I don’t want to get too excited yet, but they’ve asked me to come out for an interview in the first week of January.”

Rey leaned against the wall for support and nodded, “That’s wonderful news. But-- that’s already next week, will you be able to get here in time?”

Ben hesitated, “Well… My father has a car he says he owes to Chewie, and he’s offered to drive out with me. It’ll be slow going, but we can switch off drivers and we should make it in about a week. Depends on the snow in the mountains and such, of course.”

“I miss you so much,” Rey blurted out. “Be safe, but I can’t wait to see you.”

“Likewise,” Ben’s voice was quiet. “How’s your research going?”

Rey grinned. “I can only deliver that report in person.”

The way his breath hitched made her warm. “I’ll be sure to leave time in my schedule to review it.”

Rey crossed one leg over the other and folded partway over to her knees. “Where will you stay?”

“At Chewie’s, for now,” Ben replied, “But Poe says his offer still stands if they accept me.”

“Alright,” Rey said. “I can’t stay with Jessa and Jack forever.”

“Are things still okay,” Ben asked, and she could hear the concern immediately in his voice.

She was silent for a long minute before she replied, “Things are… shifting here.”

“Shifting?”

“I can’t talk about it here,” she said very quietly. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Well, keep me posted,” Ben said. “Wish me luck on this trip, otherwise we’ll be arranging visits to me at the penitentiary when they lock me up for patricide.”

Rey giggled at the image of Han and Ben driving cross-country, Ben slipping into a silent sulk as Han made lame jokes for two thousand miles.

“If you could survive two years on a ship with perfect strangers, I’m sure you can last a week with your own father in a car,” she offered. “Right?”

Ben sighed deeply, but she could hear his smile when he said, “He’s more excited to see you again than to be with me, I’m fairly certain.”

“Tell him I say hello, and I’ll see you both soon,” Rey smiled. “I love you -- all of you.”

“I’ll be sure to tell me folks you say so,” Ben promised. “And you know I love you. So much.”

“I know.” 

* * *

 

On New Year’s Day, the women rode the streetcar by themselves to Ocean Beach and walked aimlessly along, shoes in their hands and their elbows linked together. Chewie had given her the day off, and Magnin’s was closed. Jessa had already been told her hours would be shortened for the month of January, and she was considering doing a stenography class. Rey wondered privately how Jessa would sit still long enough to endure a typing class, let alone to work in the legal system.

“You work in the courts, transcribing what goes on when someone goes on trial,” she described it. “Can you imagine the stuff you’d overhear? I bet some of the trials are pretty sordid.”

“Mmmhmmmm,” Rey nodded.

“Maybe you should do it with me,” Jessa suggested breathlessly, the loose sand of the dry beach above the waterline making their walking difficult. “You don’t want to be grubbing around with metal work forever, right? It’s so hard, and you know you won’t ever make much more unless you can get into a union, but I’m afraid the Maker gifted us with the wrong equipment for admittance, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I could stand to work indoors,” Rey replied noncommittally. “I like to be outside if I can be. The shipyards were alright because it was such a big space by the dry dock, but in an office? Having to wear nice clothes every day and get coffee for people… It doesn’t sound like you, either.”

“At least think about it. I’d love it if you kept me company. It never hurts to have options,” Jessa said.

They walked aways further in silence. Matt had collected Jack early in the morning to dig a few graves for people who’d passed away during the holidays, and the two of them had spent the morning taking down the holiday decorations around the apartment.

“So, did you ever come to a conclusion about men’s hands or feet?” Rey changed the subject obliquely.

“Their feet?” Jessa repeated absently. “What about them?”

“You said you’d joked with your friends about whether a man’s hands or feet predicted the size of his--”

“Oh, that!” Jessa interrupted her with a short laugh. “We were just kidding around, maybe it's their nose, you know?”

Rey sighed and she couldn’t look Jessa in the eye as she said, “Look, I saw you at Christmas with him. I had gone outside to get some fresh air, and then, I heard you. I thought one of the children had fallen and hurt themselves.”

Jessa’s smile faded and to Rey’s surprise, it quickly slid into a scowl. “So you were spying on us?”

“Jessa, no!” Rey said forcefully. “It was a mistake, I overheard you and I thought it was one of Jack’s nieces or nephews in the laundry.”

Jessa picked up her pace and began stalking away as quickly as the shifting sand would allow. “You know, this is so like you, Rey!” The wind nearly took her words as Rey jogged to keep up with her. “You think you know everything, but you’re just scared like everybody else. It’s none of your business what I do with him!”

“I know everything?” Rey retorted as she caught up and managed to get her hand on Jessa’s forearm to slow her. “Tell me I’m wrong, then! Look me in the eye, and tell me you aren’t having an affair with _your husband’s cousin!_ ”

“And what if I am?!” Jessa wrenched her arm away. “I did this for Jack, for him to save face with his family and our friends! Things are getting better between us now in spite of that.”

“But what if you stop, Jessa? What happens when this thing ends with Matt? Can it?” Rey was still struggling to keep pace with her friend.

“Oh, _honestly_ , Rey! You are so frustrating sometimes,” Jessa rolled her eyes at her. “Are you the only one who’s allowed to have any fun? You think I’ve wanted to be here my whole life, knowing the same people I grew up with?”

Rey stopped short. “You’re jealous of me? That doesn’t excuse your behavior, Jess. And for the record, hardly anything about the past three months has been what I’d consider fun!”

“Oh, please -- I’m not jealous of you, Rey,” Jessa whirled back. “But I’m young. _We’re_ young. So forgive me if I wanted to know for once what it felt like to be pursued by someone who’s crazy about me!”

“Jack _is_ crazy about you!” Rey cried, “Jessa, what is the matter with you?”

“He’s no saint, alright!” Jessa spit back. “Don’t assume you know everything about him just because you think I’m the wrong one here.”

Rey stopped short, breathing heavily after trying to keep up with Jessa and yelling. Jessa continued on ahead of her, her arms slashing viciously from side-to-side in an effort to keep her balance in the soft footing. Rey braced her fists on her hips, gasping for air and staring angrily at Jessa’s back. She hadn’t expected Jessa’s vehemence against her, in as much as she’d thought through how this conversation might go. It was incomprehensible to her that her friend would be so adamant on continuing this fling despite her knowing about it. Jessa couldn’t possibly want to be with Matt instead of Jack, could she?

“Jessa, wait!” She hollered at her friend’s receding figure. “You’re being ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath. “Wait up!”

Jessa stopped dead in the sand without turning back. Rey caught up and stood in front of her.

“Look, Jess, I’m sorry-- you’re right, I should’ve minded my own business. I don’t want to see you hurt, and I just don’t understand how this won’t lead to that in some way.”

Jessa shook her head piteously, as though Rey could never understand. “It doesn’t hurt, don’t you see that? This is the most _alive_ I’ve ever felt.”

Rey could see the tears glittering in the corners of her friend’s eyes, and she pressed her lips into a line to bite back from saying what was on her heart.

“Fine,” she finally said. “Are you ready to go home, then?”

Jessa nodded. “The boys will be home soon.”

They trudged up to the retaining wall along the Great Highway and dusted the sand from their feet before returning to the streetcar turnaround, sitting with their arms crossed beside one another in the shelter without speaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG Ben is coming back. You know what that means, right?
> 
> RIGHT?!? Can I get an amen up in here??
> 
> And... Poor Rey & Jessa. I hope this Matt business doesn't destroy their girl friendship for good. :-/
> 
> If anyone was curious, [this was the dress](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/ba/0b/5e/ba0b5ea9dbcc9207aa32373946ce1ccb.jpg) I was picturing Jessa wearing.


	16. San Francisco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NSFW, guys. You've been warned!

_January 1946_

If Rey thought the days leading to the _Finalizer_ ’s docking in San Francisco in September had been interminable, the ones that stretched between New Year’s and their arrival taught her a new meaning of anticipation. She threw herself into work, staying late at the shop and agreeing to go on a couple weekend scavenges to make herself scarce around the house. Rey did not consider herself devout, but she could not help but think of the part of the scriptures that compared a thousand years to a day, and a day to a thousand years in the eyes of the Maker.

After their spat on the beach, she and Jessa were no longer speaking. Jack remained oblivious to the cold war that had crept into the household, but their fights had tamed somewhat with his newfound sense of purpose.

The phone in Chewie’s office rang on the fourth, late in the afternoon. Rey’s goggles were firmly strapped over her eyes as she welded a joint in a set of beams a contractor had ordered, but she caught Chewie leaning back in his chair and looking into the workroom. She trimmed back the flame on her torch and wiped the sweat from her upper lip on the back of her glove at her wrist as she waited for Chewie to say something. His glance told her everything she needed to know before he beckoned her with a single wave of his enormous hand.

“They’re here,” Chewie said. “You’re welcome to hitch a ride home with me, if you want to see them right away.”

Rey wiped the sweat off her eyebrows with the heel of her hand and glanced down at her dirty coveralls, replete with a few fresh burn holes from her work and smiled. “I wore my best dress today,” she laughed. “If you don’t mind, I’ll come along.”

“Of course,” Chewie nodded. “How’re the beams coming?”

Rey shrugged. “Slowly, but they’ll be done by the end of the week if I can keep at them.”

“You won’t get any interference from me,” Chewie agreed, turning back to his paperwork. “Be ready at 5:15.”

The clock on the wall above the door to the hut seemed to be ticking backwards as Rey continued her work, and she was having trouble getting a satisfying meld on one piece when Chewie finally interrupted her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“C’mon, kid, that’ll keep until tomorrow,” Chewie’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Let’s go see if the boys are still on speaking terms.”

Rey trimmed back the torch until the flame sputtered out, then closed off the gas at the fixture on the tank. She hung the goggles on the vice that was bolted to the worktable and trailed Chewie out the back door to his pickup truck parked in the alley behind the shop. She had no idea where Chewie lived, and wasn’t sure what to expect from his place.

The truck’s transmission whined perilously as they climbed the steepest hill on that side of the city towards the Mission, coasting downhill and onto Army. To her surprise, they turned up a small, steep hill south towards Bernal Heights before veering onto Ripley street and coasting to a stop after Chewie cut the engine in front of a small Victorian house with an ancient wooden gate. He set the wheels against the curb and she immediately recognized the Studebaker from Luke’s barn.

“Oh, he got it running!” Rey exclaimed, throwing open her door and hopping down to the sidewalk to approach the car. It was covered in a considerable layer of dirt from the trip across the country, but she stood grinning at it with her thumbs hooked in the bib of her overalls, watching Chewie as he made a slow lap around the vehicle, kicking its white walled tires and laying in the street to peer at the undercarriage.

“Yeah, she’s been back East for sure,” Chewie’s muffled voice came from the opposite side. “Rusted to shit from the road salt.”

Rey was kneeling beside the running board to have a look herself when she heard the door of the house open behind her.

“I told you I’d pay you back,” Han called from the porch. “She’s a beauty, huh?”

Rey straightened up and smiled broadly as her father-in-law burst through the gate and engulfed her in a bear hug. “The car’s alright, too-- right, Chewie?” Han winked at her. “Ben’s inside if you want to go in, sweetheart. He can’t wait to see you.”

“Hi, Han,” she stood on her tiptoes to peck his cheek. To her surprise, he blushed and looked embarrassed. “It’s good to see you. I’ll go in and wash up.”

She walked slowly through the front yard, marveling at how lush the garden still looked despite the month. A squat palm tree in need of a trim to divest it of dead fronds dominated the lawn, but she was overwhelmed by the bougainvillea spilling over the fence from the neighbor’s property, its paper-thin pink and red flowers fluttering in the breeze that had blown up as the cloud layer began to shroud the city for the evening.

Rey paused with her hand on the knob, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear and taking a deep breath. She didn’t know if she felt ready to see Ben yet, but if she wasn’t now, when would she be?

She stepped through the threshold into Chewie’s foyer and surveyed the scene in the sitting room. It was masculine in character, dominated by a large leather chair surrounded by newspapers and a side-table with several used glasses perched on it, but Rey also spied a well-used Spanish guitar leaning against the mantle. The wood of the body was exposed where the player’s arm hooked over the instrument to strum it, the varnish worn away by years of music-making.

Just as she self-consciously noticed her reflection in a mirror hanging in the entryway, she heard a noise from further inside the house. She slipped off her boots by the door so as not to track up Chewie’s place and she proceeded slowly into the hallway. She looked a mess with her double pony-tails, but it was the only way to keep her unruly hair out of her face as she welded.

There was a light on in the bedroom at the end of the hallway, and she called, “Ben? Are you back there?”

There was a soft thump and she placed her hand on the door jamb of the bathroom to steady herself.

Ben stepped out of the bedroom, the light from it illuminating only half his face while the other side remained shadowed in the darkened hallway. He was wearing only trousers, a damp towel slung around his neck. His hair was wet from the bath, but despite that she could see it was considerably longer, hanging well over his ears now and curling at his neckline. He had grown a small beard as well, and her stomach tightened at how he looked older with it.

“Rey,” he breathed, walking slowly towards her until they were no more than a stride apart. She could smell his aftershave and the scent went straight to her groin. She blushed and glanced down at his long feet, bare on the wooden floor. “I didn’t know if I’d see you tonight.”

“Well, here I am,” she said lamely, crossing her arms for lack of anything better to do. Why did it feel so awkward now that they were face-to-face, she wondered? She had been so bold when thousands of miles had separated them, but here he was, in the flesh, and she didn’t know if she wanted to fight or run away.

Ben took a half-step forward and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, too. “You look well,” he offered, his gaze traveling slowly down her figure to assess her. “Glad you didn’t dress up on my account,” he grinned.

“We came straight from work,” she shrugged, but his crooked smile diffused any irritation she might have felt about his teasing. “I could wash up.”

“If you like, but don't feel like you need to,” Ben replied. “I only took a bath because we’ve been sleeping in the car, but I trust you’ve been bathing regularly.”

“How was the trip,” she asked, wanting to ask a million things all at once and simultaneously knowing she shouldn’t innundate him with questions straight away.

“Long.”

“It is a long way,” she agreed. “Your father seems chipper.”

Ben shook his head ruefully and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know now why my mother won’t go on car trips with him any longer.”

“That bad, huh?” Rey couldn’t help but smile as she imagined it. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Nebraska nearly did us in,” Ben recalled with a short laugh. “It may as well have been an ice planet.”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Rey nodded, tucking her hands behind her lower back and resting back against the wall. She felt like she had an oscillating magnet in her midsection, first pulling her to him and then repelling her away by equal turns. He shifted and the towel fell to one side, revealing his tattoo and she fought to pretend she didn’t notice this.

“Rey,” Ben straightened up, but placed his hands high up on the wall beside him, palms flattened against the wall. “I know we have a lot of things to talk about, but my interview is tomorrow, and I need to finish preparing.”

“Of course,” she said quickly. “What do you have to do?”

Ben considered for a moment before answering. “There’s basically three sections. I have to give a presentation, like a sample lecture, then meet with the dean, then meet with a committee of peers-- other lecturers, a few professors. I’ll be there all day.”

Rey raised her eyebrows in surprise. This was quite a bit more than he'd let on before they’d left. It was certainly more than when she’d applied at the shipyards. “And… Which part do you need to prep for?”

Ben pursed his lips to one side. “I mean, all of it, but mostly the lecture. It’s been awhile since I taught, and even though I’m using notes from a class I taught before the war, it feels a bit rusty.”

Rey nodded. “Can I help you in any--”

Chewie and Han burst into the house just then, interrupting her offer. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she could do to help Ben with this.

“We’re heading to the El Dorado,” Chewie announced, a rare smile lining his face as he looked between them. “Ben-- it’s been forever!”

“Hey Chewie,” Ben stepped past her and the men hooked their right hands together at chest height, pulling each other into a gruff hug with their left arms thrown around the other’s shoulders.

“The last time I saw you, you were only as tall as my chest and didn’t have any hair on your face-- look at you!” Chewie leaned back to take in Ben’s appearance. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again when your pop told me you’d enlisted.”

Ben shrugged and shook his head like it was nothing. “You look good, old man. Sorry to hear about Rosa.”

Chewie’s smile slackened a touch, and a moment of sadness ghosted over his long features. “Thanks, kid-- I miss her every day.”

Rey wondered who Rosa was, but her asking was interrupted when Ben continued unexpectedly in Spanish to Chewie. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise as her husband carried on with her boss faster than she could keep up. Since when did Ben know Spanish…?

Han peeked into the hallway and said over them, “Alright, alright! Some of us here no hablo the espanol, right Rey? _Si_? Are you two coming with us to the El Dorado or do you lovebirds have better things to do than hang out with a couple old men?”

“Go on,” Ben confirmed. “I need to get ready for tomorrow. Rey, go ahead if you’re hungry, but the El Dorado is…” He trailed off, looking to Chewie and Han to finish.

“It’s a wretched hive of scum,” Han supplied enthusiastically.

“And villainy.” Chewie added.

“That sounds lovely, but I’ll pass, thanks,” Rey laughed. “Maybe next time?”

“We’re never sure if there’ll be a next time,” Chewie said playfully. “Every time we’re there, they threaten not to serve ‘our kind’ there, whatever that means. Luckily we’ve outlasted all the bartenders there.”

“Alright, go already,” Ben shooed them. He was still smiling, but she could detect the note of exasperation in his tone.

They dallied in the kitchen for a few more minutes, Ben leaning silently on the counter covered with newspaper clippings and random jars of washers and nuts while Han changed his shoes and traded his heavy overcoat for a navy-blue surplus utility vest that Chewie had hanging on the back of the chair. Ben only raised an eyebrow at his father’s outfit.

“What?!” Han asked in mock offense. “You don’t like my clothes?”

Ben pressed his lips into a line before replying, “Looks great, Dad. If you’re lucky, maybe someone will ask you to hold something for them. Like an entire platoon of off-duty soldiers.”

Han stepped slowly in front of Ben with his hand raised in warning, but Rey giggled when he playfully slapped Ben’s cheek and put up one finger in admonishment. “Don’t stay up too late, and don’t wait up for us, alright?”

The front door banged behind them and they could hear their raucous laughter echoing in the front porch as the two men went off to carouse.

Ben snorted and shook his head. “I doubt they’ll be back tonight,” he said softly.

Rey nodded and smiled, again feeling the tension building in her middle. “Probably not.”

Ben studied her from beneath his shaggy hair. “So I guess that means, we have the place to ourselves,” he said quietly. He leaned forward and pushed away from the cabinet and took a hesitant step in her direction.

Rey backed up until she felt the countertop at her lower back, grasping at the cool tile with her fingertips as he stepped towards her again.

“Yes…” She whispered, standing up on her toes in her stockinged feet.

He closed the gap and stood over her, his fingers curling into fists at his sides, folding and unfolding as he gazed at her. Rey averted her eyes momentarily and it was then he grabbed her unceremoniously by her waist and set her on the counter with a thump. Her sides smarted where her weight had settled unexpectedly against his hands. He stood with his hands on her knees between her legs, his thumbs playing along the ridges of the denim of her coveralls.

Rey gently placed her hands on his broad shoulders, running her thumbs in the groove along his collarbones and into the notch where they knit together. She brushed the towel aside and it fell to the floor with a muffled sound. “We… you need to get ready,” she whispered. “I don’t want to distract you.”

Ben huffed, shaking his head slowly and looking at the floor between them. “I don’t want to be… overprepared, either,” he offered. He leaned towards her, and he was near enough she could feel the heat of his body through the thick material of her work clothes. Her hands played up his neck, over the stubble on his cheeks and stroking into the longer, coarse hairs under his chin. He met her eyes, and did not break her gaze as he closed the distance between them and murmured against her lips, “If you tell me to stop, I will.”

“Uh-uh,” Rey whispered, tugging at his whiskers to close the gap between them. It felt… _Maker, save her_ , had his lips always felt like this? A bolt of arousal shot down her midline as she parted her lips eagerly for his hot tongue to slide against hers. If films were to be believed, this was an aberration, but in Rey’s experience, it was nearly impossible to keep one’s mouth closed when kissing. She wanted to drink him, to consume him completely with her greedy mouth and hold him inside her forever. He groaned as she lightly bit down on his tongue when he tried to draw back from her. He cupped the back of her head and his clever fingers worked the bottommost tie free from her hair.

She broke their kiss to say, “Would you like to hear my report now?”

His eyes were still closed as he kissed along her jaw and caught the lobe of her ear in a nip. “Whenever you’re ready,” he mumbled, clearly preoccupied with tasting the spot at her hairline behind her ear. His hand had slid up her thigh nearly to her hip and his thumb grazed the thick seam of her overalls where it pressed into the soft flesh between her legs. She shifted and shuddered as her arousal rubbed on the knot of fabric at the juncture of her thighs. Her need for him already felt all-consuming, a beast in her belly that turned tightly in its cage and waited until its handler turned its back for a second too long.

“I… I want you to….” She whispered the rest against the shell of his ear, too embarrassed to say what she’d pictured him doing to her out loud. She knew it was not becoming, not normal.

“Oh…?” Ben sounded curious.”And then what happens?” He pulled her forwards by her hips so their bodies were flush.

Her fingers trailed down his torso and hooked into the waistband of his trousers. “You know what happens,” she said assuredly.

He drew back momentarily, appraising her with a quirked eyebrow, but his lips worked in a way that reminded her of nothing more than a wolf circling its prey. Without a word he drew her to him and lifted her off the counter, one arm circling around her waist and the other hitching her up by her bottom. She squirmed in his embrace, a pretense at struggle as he carried her wordlessly down the hallway to the back bedroom and flicked off the light. He eased her to the floor and pushed her a step away before he ordered, “Take your clothes off.”

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dim light of the room, but she could see the city spreading out beneath the window, its lights twinkling under the thick layer of night fog.

“I should at least wash my hands,” she hesitated, unhooking the right strap of her overalls.

“No,” Ben shook his head slightly. “You won’t need them, remember?”

She felt her cheeks flush and wondered if he could tell in the darkened room. Her fingers shook as she eased the left strap from the its buckle and shrugged her shoulders, the heavy, stiff material sliding unceremoniously down her legs to puddle at her ankles. The room was chilly but she was glad of the cool air on her overheated thighs. Ben tipped his chin at her to get on with it, and she fumbled with the buttons on the man’s shirt she had gotten at the Salvation Army store for work.

She could see how his breath caught when she parted the plackets of her shirt to reveal her undershirt. She crossed her arms in front of her to draw it over her head, and finally she was standing in front of him in her underwear. She thumbed the waistband of her panties and crossed one leg over the other.

“These, too?”

“Just your bra,” he whispered. “And… Leave your socks on. You might get cold.”

She quirked her eyebrow in amusement at his concern for the comfort of her feet, but did as he told her. Her nipples shrank to tight points as the cool air hit them, and she could feel the skin of her stomach pricking into goose flesh as she shivered slightly as she stood for his inspection.

“Good,” he licked his lips. “Now lay on the bed.”

She eased onto the twin bed, the old mattress sinking considerably and creaking under her weight. The scratchy wool of the blanket pricked her back, and she covered her breasts for warmth with her hands as he dug through his bag. The bed had a brass frame, and its headboard knocked slightly against the wall as she shifted in anticipation. She laughed nervously as he straightened up and she saw what was in his hand.

“Are you sure you want to use that?” Rey looked at the dark tie hanging from his fingers. “Don’t you need it for tomorrow?”

“I do,” Ben replied evenly, “But I might as well get my money’s worth out of it.”

Rey hummed as he gathered her hands together in his and raised her arms over her head to the brass headboard. He bit his lip in concentration as he wove the material around her wrists and hitched her hands to the rail of the bed frame. It felt loose until he threaded the excess of the tie through a loophole he’d made and he yanked it tight with a firm jerk that made her gasp in surprise.

He looked down at her and she twisted away as his fingers brushed down her ticklish upper inner arms to her armpits. “Does that feel alright,” he asked.

“It feels….” Rey considered. Her heart was beating very quickly at the thought of where he might put his hands next. “How did you learn to tie a knot like that?”

“It’s not your turn to ask questions,” he growled, turning her head hard to the side by her chin to suck at her exposed neck.

Rey closed her eyes and flexed her fingers. The silk of the tie felt smooth against her wrists, but the binding was tight enough to cause the slightest pain on her wrist bone if she tried to pull down and away. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation, and she whimpered as he traced his fingertips down her midline to the edge of her panties, then along the swollen cleft between her legs under the fabric. She was damp there already, and his fingers played at the edges of her undergarment, teasing between the sensation of their bare skin meeting and fondling her through the silky fabric.

She was keenly aware of her feet still being sheathed in her thick wool socks as she dug her heels into the bed and arched up, trying to force more contact between his palm and her sex. He immediately withdrew his hand from her, stilling her with a shake of his head.

“You have to behave,” he chided. “This is what you asked for, so now you’ll go at my pace.”

Rey hissed, but nodded eagerly. “Yes, I will.”

Ben stood beside the bed and undid his trousers, his eyes never leaving her naked torso as he eased the zipper down and let them fall to the floor. He stepped clear of them and knelt between her legs, bending over her to brush his nose and chin on her stomach. She twitched at the ticklish sensation, and he placed his hand on her hip to still her.

“Lay… Still…” He murmured against her, his teeth grazing her soft flesh.

How in the _stars_ could he expect her to lay still, she thought as her eyes rolled back beneath her closed lids. She wanted nothing more now than to touch him, to force more contact between their bare skin, their warm bellies, the corded hardness of their limbs and to consume his desire in the aching want she felt between her legs. His hand felt heavy as it slid up her side now and cupped the sensitive mound of her breast where it lay exposed for his attentions, his thumb and forefinger capturing her nipple and pinching until he drew a moan from her. He looked up her body as he did it again and oh, _oh--_ she saw the wicked look on his face.  

He _liked_ this, having her at his whim, panting in anticipation of what he could do to her. She wanted to move her legs, but they were trapped beneath him, and she shifted impatiently, waiting for him to allow her to move freely.

“Ah!” He withdrew his hand from her breast and shook his head. “What did I just say?”

“Oh, please, _please_ ,” she whispered. “Keep touching me, I can’t stand it.”

He shimmied down her body and bent her knees so her feet were in his lap. A shiver ran over her as her heel accidentally brushed his hard length where it strained against his underwear and he went still for a moment, softly closing his eyes.

Rey glowed with pride at this tiny triumph over him, a smile playing at her lips.

“Are you warm enough?” Ben asked, his fingers playing at the ankle of her sock.

“Mmhmmmm,” she hummed. “Take them off.”

He lifted one foot up and hooked her heel on his shoulder, his teeth grazing her ankle as he grasped the loose material at her toe and slowly tugged the sock from her. His thumb massaged the arch of her foot and she jerked involuntarily at the sensation.

Rey would’ve sworn she had never felt this ticklish in her entire life, but now every inch of her felt as though he would’ve merely had to flutter his fingers at her to send her into a twitching, giggling fit. And nowhere felt more sensitive than the heated, prickling seam of her body between her thighs. The material of her panties felt slick with her desire, the elastic tugged uncomfortably into the juncture of her legs to her hips. She longed to open her legs, to feel the cool air and let him look at her.

“Ben, _please_ ,” she interrupted his ministrations to her foot. “I need you.”

“Well, I’m right here,” he replied, his calm maddening. “Or did you mean something else?”

Oh _Maker_ , he was stubbornly committed to carrying out her wishes.

“I want you,” she tried instead, feeling wanton now. Surely he would break and give her what she needed.

Instead, he leaned forwards over her and hooked her knees over his shoulders, her hips angled up in his lap. The bed springs squeaked as their weight shifted and Rey could feel the distinct throb of her heart in her sex. She gasped for air against the curl of her own body and arched against him when he finally hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties to tug them down her thighs.

“What is it you want,” he whispered, and she could see how his lust was beginning to hood his eyes as he gazed down reverently at the dark triangle.

“I want… I want you,” she panted, “Inside me, please!”

His gaze flicked up and she held her breath as he reached slowly up and opened her mouth with his fingers on her chin. He smirked as he slid his thumb into her mouth and commanded her: “Suck.”

She closed her lips and bit teasingly on the second joint, pulling at him and working her tongue against the pad of thumb, tasting the salt and faint, lingering tang of tobacco on his skin. His fingers fanned over her face, pulling at her cheekbone and she moaned. Surely he wanted her as badly as she wanted him? She flexed her elbows, pulling at her restraint. Her shoulders were beginning to feel slightly sore from the angle of her arms.

He huffed and shifted under her, and she could feel his cock pressing dangerously close to her bottom through the thin material of his underwear. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, pressing his thumb down and opening her mouth. “Is that what you meant?”

“Nnnnnnn,” she whimpered, “You know where.”

He wrapped his opposite hand around her thigh as he placed the heel of his hand against her pelvic bone and rubbed in maddeningly slow circles. “Here?”

Rey shuddered as her swollen flesh shifted under his pressure, bucking up towards him.

“Or did you mean…” Ben dragged his saliva-slickened thumb between her slippery folds. “Here?”

“Please,” she whispered.

She clenched as he eased his thumb deeper, deeper into her flesh until she felt him breach the tight ring of muscles at her entrance. His hand felt hard and hot against her, his palm tight around her aching sex. It was too much and not enough; she longed to feel his cock filling her, but she shuddered and sobbed as he finally gave her what she asked for. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thigh where he tried to hold her still, but she could not help but undulate her hips with the unrelenting rhythm of his hand in her cunt.

Rey squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back as she broke with pleasure, spasming around his thumb and squeezing her thighs together as much as he would allow her. He eased up on her but did not withdraw his hand, instead releasing her leg carelessly to the side to take himself in hand, leaning farther over her now and finishing himself with quick, hard strokes.

He came on her bare chest, his seed spilling hot on her tits in ropey strands. She glanced at him as it hit her, and she saw his eyes were closed in a blank mask of fulfillment. They were both breathing hard from their climaxes, and she shivered slightly as a chill washed over her sweaty skin. Her small movement caused him to open his eyes, and he looked down at her as though surprised to see her there. Gently, he left her body, still rubbing his hand in soothing circles on her cooling stomach and reaching up with his hand to free her hands from his tie.

Her wrists ached, but he kissed them, then her palms, then nipped her fingertips as he massaged them back to life. She shifted silently towards the wall alongside the bed so that he could lie beside her, and they looked at one another for a long while before he said, “I know this doesn’t make up for how we left things, but I hope you’ll give me the chance to.”

Rey closed her eyes and nodded silently. He reached into his trousers where they lay on the floor and found his handkerchief, wiping his spend as best he could from her breasts with the small cloth. When she was clean, he kissed her sternum and drew the blanket at their feet partly over them.

“Do you want to give me your lecture,” she suggested, suppressing a yawn. It couldn’t be much past seven, but the languid feeling that suffused her limbs made her yawn openly despite her efforts not to.

Ben smiled. “If you’re already yawning, it would put you right to sleep. It’ll be fine.”

Rey nodded again, tracing her fingers over his moustache and chin. “I feel so sleepy, I don’t know why.”

“Then sleep,” he whispered, snuggling closer to her. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	17. It's Been a Long, Long Time

Rey kept the note she’d found on her pillow the next morning tucked carefully in the small pocket on the bib of her overalls. She had woken when she’d rolled over onto it, and unfolded the carbon paper to find his message scrawled on the back.

_R-- Wish me luck. Meet me afterwards at the college? Love, B._

A second straight day of unseasonably heavy rain had the crew confined inside to the degreasing table, and Rey welded at a feverish pace on the beams that were due to a contractor at the end of the week.

Chewie eventually made it to the shop at 10:30 that morning, wearing the same shirt Rey recalled from the day before. No one looked up from their work as he slunk through the workroom and closed the door to his office behind him. She wondered if Han was at home, or somewhere else, but knew better than to interrupt Chewie in his present state to ask.

When the clock rolled to 5:30, she caught the street car and trundled slowly towards the junior college. She had never been to the campus, but it was a long trudge up a short, steep hill from the trolley stop along Ocean. Her umbrella did little to shield her legs from the blowing rain, and by the time she burst through the massive double doors of the first building she came to, she was soaked from the knees down.

Rey closed her umbrella as delicately as she could to keep from spraying the water all over entryway and the clutches of young women who huddled just inside the doors awaiting rides or a break in the rain to dash to the very stop from whence she’d come. She caught their sideways glances at her overalls and smiled tightly as they wrapped their overcoats closer around themselves.

“It’s a little wet out there,” she said almost to herself, then her eye caught the paintings flanking either side of the short stairway leading up into the building. They were, in a word, massive: stretching the length of the stairs and nearly to the ceiling, her eyes could not settle on any one point of the images, but instead darted from scene to scene, trying to take it in.

The murals depicted men and women alike, performing work on and with machines, surrounded by natural wonders-- flowers, a skeleton, sea creatures. Rey ascended halfway up the stairs and leaned against the handrail to gaze at one female figure, her golden blonde hair coiffed in perfect waves over her shoulder as her hands seemingly poured out a rainbow that lead to the generation-- or destruction-- of what appeared to Rey to be seeds.

Even in the dim evening twilight, the colors of the paintings took Rey’s breath.

“Can I help you, miss?” A male voice behind her asked.

Rey turned with a start and found herself face-to-face with a small, mousy-looking fellow in a sweater vest with a well-worn leather satchel slung over his shoulder. His dark hair was parted deeply from one side to the other, but a lock had escaped its styling pomade to curl across his forehead. His wide-set brown eyes had a touch of sadness to them, she thought.

“I-- I was just looking,” Rey said, regretting how apologetic she sounded. She had every right to be here, didn’t she? “I’ve never been here, that’s all.”

“Of course,” he nodded with a crooked, closed-lipped smile, and his eyes flicked down to the small puddle that was forming at her feet on the stairs. “The murals are a lot to take in.”

“They’re beautiful,” she gushed, glancing back once more at the rainbow woman. “I’m here to meet my husband,” she explained, and it didn’t escape her how his eyes fell a touch at this information. “He’s here for an interview.”

“Oh!” His expression brightened once more. “I just came from the committee session, they should be nearly finished. I only stopped back by my office here to pick up my things. Can I show you to the admin building?”

“If you don’t mind? That would be lovely,” Rey agreed, and extended her hand. “I’m Rey Solo.”

“Dopheld Mitaka,” he replied, pumping her hand vigorously. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Solo.”

“Please, you can call me Rey,” she demurred in the face of his formality. They ascended the stairs with the handrail between them and proceeded down the cavernous hallway.

“This is the Science building,” he explained, “And my office is down that corridor,” he gestured down a wing whose overhead lights were off. “Not much to see,” he shook his head with a self-conscious smile.

“Are you a professor, then?” Rey asked. Mitaka barely seemed older than herself.

“Oh, no, no,” he answered quickly, as though he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. “I’m still a graduate student myself, but the college was hiring for lecturers, and it’s always good to get teaching experience if you can. I’m still working on my classes. And… You?” His sideways glance at her outfit was telling.

“I work for a salvage business that’s owned by a friend of my husband’s father,” she said. “I was in the shipyards during the war, though.”

“Wow,” Mitaka whistled through his teeth. “I bet you have some stories.”

They ran as best they could between the buildings, Mitaka yanking open the Admin door just ahead of her and ushering her in with a quick gesture.

A small cluster of gentlemen and a stern older woman in a plaid skirt stood at the end of the hallway talking quietly. Mitaka placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Wait here, alright?”

He ducked past the gathering with a nod in deference and into a room beside them. Rey tried to appear interested in the papers posted to a bulletin board beside her. Each of them was imprinted with the college’s seal bearing its logo: _The Truth Shall Make You Free._

Rey shivered as a chill hit her from her wet ankles, thinking of the odd similarity to the slogan above the gates of the concentration camps in Europe.

The men emerged from the room and Rey turned expectantly, watching as Ben said a round of thank-yous and shook hands with the remaining faculty before joining her with Mitaka at his side.

“Well,” Mikata pronounced with a nod, “Good luck, and I hope we see you again.” He shook Ben’s hand and glanced at her. “Both of you,” he added.

Ben raised an eyebrow at Mitaka’s receding back before turning to her. “I think he hopes you get the job,” he said with a grin. “I’m glad you came,” he leaned down to peck her head.

“Hi,” she breathed, looking at his outfit. He was wearing the same dark suit as when they’d met. “You look nice,” she said shyly. “Although your tie is… a touch wrinkled, sir.” She dragged the silky material between her first two fingers.

Ben cleared his throat gruffly. “That can happen when it’s in a suitcase. Luckily looks aren’t one of the selection criteria.”

She shrugged playfully. “Not that you’re aware of, anyway.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he said softly, “Shall we get out of here?”

“Of course,” she purred, lacing her damp fingers through his and pulling him towards the door. “If you’ll hold the umbrella.”

* * *

Chewie’s house was deserted, and they were both soaked, by the time they reached Ripley Street. A note affixed to the icebox with a magnet read:

_Tamales inside, if u want. Out. Love, Dad_

“Are you hungry?” Rey ventured, her stomach growling involuntarily at the thought of the pillowy corn meal wrapped around roasted chiles.

"I am, but maybe we should get out of our wet clothes before we catch cold,” Ben suggested.

Rey glanced at him. “I don’t have any other clothes here-- I haven’t been home since yesterday morning.”

“Right,” he said as though he just remembered that. “You can wear one of my shirts?”

“Alright.”

“Go ahead, you change first, and I’ll figure out if there’s any way to warm up these tamales,” he dismissed her to the bedroom with a wave.

Rey peeled her dripping socks and long-sleeved shirt from her body, shivering as the cool air hit her damp torso. She could not look at the bed without feeling warm, and averted her eyes to rummage through his suitcase for an undershirt. Reluctantly, she unhooked her bra-- also soaked-- and pulled the thin, but mercifully dry, shirt over her her shivering upper body. It reached her upper thighs, hardly long enough to be considered decent without pants, and she moved a stack of shirts in search of his undershorts. She retrieved a pair, holding them to hips and giggling at how comically too-large they were for her. They’d have to do.

She retrieved a small towel from the linen closet and wound it around her dripping head in a makeshift turban, making her way back to the kitchen. Ben stood scowling over a pot that was beginning to boil, his jacket slung over a chair at the table and his tie draped unceremoniously over it. Both were dripping slightly on the linoleum.

He looked at her and snort of laughter contorted his long face. “You look like the Sultan of San Francisco!”

She crossed her arms and nodded in mock solemnity. “Your wish is my command, traveler.”

Ben blinked and his smile fell slightly as he warned, “Don’t tempt me.”

Rey tipped her chin at the pot. “How are those coming?”

“Why don’t you keep an eye on them while I change,” he said, tugging playfully at the end of the towel as he passed behind her.

She stood guard over the pot, admiring how he’d improvised a steamer from a baking rack and a smaller pot, placing the tamales on top to catch the evaporating water. Red grease from the chili-seasoned pork filling stained the ends and her mouth watered thinking about it. She guessed they were some of Hector’s wife’s lot.

“Here,” Ben emerged from the hallway carrying a knit cardigan. “Put this on.”

She accepted the garment with a questioning look. “Whose is this?”

“It was Chewie’s wife’s,” Ben explained. “I can’t believe he still keeps most of her clothes in the closet.”

The cardigan was a welcome addition to her sultan’s costume, even if the sleeves barely reached her wrists. “Rosa?”

“Right,” Ben nodded, peering into the pot over her shoulder. “She died several years ago.”

She nodded and leaned back against him. “So, when do we start with our questions?”

Ben groaned in mock protest. “Could it wait until tomorrow? I already underwent the third degree today.”

“When will you find out if you got the position?” Rey twisted to look up at him behind her.

“Does that count as one of your five questions,” Ben tickled her waist and laughed as she shrieked and tried to squirm away from him.

“Fine, yes!” Rey cried. She hated being tickled -- so what if she just threw away one of five questions they’d agreed to answer honestly per day. Anything to stop his wicked fingers where they pressed and teased her sides and stomach.

He stopped immediately and held her by her hips. “I should know by next Monday. They have another couple candidates to see first, but I think I have a good chance.”

She poked the husks of the tamales with her fingertip to see if they felt soft and hot. “I think they’re done,” she said. Ben retrieved a plate from an overhead cupboard and held them ready for her to fish the steaming hot tamales from the pot.

“You can ask me a question, if you like,” she prompted him.

Ben shook his head. “No. I’m banking mine for later.”

They ate carefully, blowing on their bites to cool the incendiary food. Rey’s eyes closed and she rolled them in bliss as the corn meal dissolved on her tongue. Ben smiled in amusement at her, and she murmured, “Unnnnf, they’re so good.”

“They are,” he said simply. He polished off his two in a flash and snuck a bite of hers when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“Hey!” She objected, clashing the tines of her fork against his. “That’s mine, you thief!”

He didn’t break eye contact as he jerked his fork quickly overhand, freeing it from hers and gulping the bite before she could object.

She sneered at his smug smile, drawing her plate closer to her with her free hand. “I thought you liked me better plump,” she said.

“I like you whichever way,” Ben countered with a sneaky look. “But I’ll take you skinny if you don’t eat faster.”

“I figured you were more discerning than that, Ben Solo,” she said, shaking her turbaned head haughtily at him.

“Finish up,” he scoffed, rising from his seat and placing the plate in the sink, then pouring the still-steaming tamale water over it. She ate dainty bites to tease him, but he ignored her to walk into the sitting room, out of her sight. Curious, she scarfed the rest of her dinner and followed after him.

He was sprawled in the leather armchair, his eyes closed and his head leaned back when she entered the room, and did not stir as she selected a record and placed it on the record player. The scratchy static of the introduction grooves was replaced by a woman crooning over a lone trumpet as she eased onto his lap and snuggled against him.

 _Kiss me once and kiss me twice_  
_Then kiss me once again_  
_It's been a long, long time_  
_Haven't felt like this, my dear…_

Ben cupped his hand to the back of her head, gently pulling the towel away from her damp hair and dropping it to the floor. Rey bent her knees to prop her feet against the arm of the chair and he circled his arm around them, hugging her to him. She felt like a tiny egg in a nest. She nuzzled the span of his neck, nipped gently at lobe of his ear, and hummed with satisfaction as she felt him shift under her to allow for the hardness she already felt mounting against the back of her thigh.

“You still want to kill me…” Ben murmured.

Rey wasn’t sure was if it was a question or a statement.

In reply, she pressed her lips along his upturned jaw and hooked her fingers into the neck of his shirt, dragging the material down a bit to peck at his collarbone and the span of muscle between his shoulder and his neck. She shivered in his embrace at how his breath caught when he stroked the back of her neck with his thumb.

"Shall we…” She whispered between kisses, “Move this elsewhere?”

Ben finally raised his head and looked at her. She could see the hunger on his face clearly in the dim light and he raised his hand to her face, cupping her chin. “You have to move first,” he whispered, then leaned in to meet her eager lips as she raised them in supplication.

She may have been seated, but Rey knew the feeling of her knees going wobbly even when she was sitting on his lap. He dropped his hand to her throat, trailing his fingers down her windpipe to the collar of his shirt, dipping them inside and brushing the knobs at the base of her neck. His hand continued down, down and she broke their kiss to pant in anticipation of it reaching--

Oh, _there_.

The palm of his hand was warm as he pressed her breast firmly against her ribcage, and her breathing fluttered as his thumb flicked back and forth over the pebble of her nipple. The material of the shirt moved slightly with him, and she would’ve sworn she could feel the individual threads rubbing over her skin. It was a welcome agony that she felt most acutely in the urgent heat that was beginning to blossom between her legs.

Ben studied her, and she saw a trace of the same feral lust in his eyes as when he’d returned from the war. Like someone who had just had a sip of water after a walk through a burning desert and would stop at nothing to drink his fill.

“We should move,” she nodded, unfolding her weak legs and rising, grasping at his fingers as he stood and followed her willingly.

She walked slowly, leading them without looking back at him but not resisting as he pulled her back to slow her even further as they faltered down the hallway to the back bedroom once more. Rey closed her eyes and let her fingertips on the wall guide her. Her tongue felt too thick in her mouth, like she herself was dying of thirst. If she had been cold earlier, her body was overcompensating now and she felt aflame, her entire body glowing like an ember that had touched the air and flared once more.

Rey was barely aware of releasing his hand to pull his clothes off her as she tripped towards the bed, the coolness of the sheets a welcome change against her heated palms. She heard the door click shut behind them.

He paused by his suitcase and she knew the cause of his delay without needing to ask. She knelt on the bed tentatively before settling onto her side, facing away from him towards the wall. He was at her back a moment later, drawing her into the curve of his body as he tucked her against him.

“Like this?” he whispered into her ear, and the very sensation of his breath against her made her clench with desire. She tucked her top heel against her opposite knee and wriggled against him in response.

He reached down her front and between her legs, and a moment later, she gasped to feel the tip of his cock part her. He leaned against her and just like that, he’d slid halfway into her.

It felt different when he wore a rubber; it smoothed out the hard lines and ridges of his manhood, but also made him slippery in a way that Rey found quite pleasing. He was able to last longer, to tease and torture her with waiting in a way that he couldn’t when they went without. It almost felt too quick, too raw otherwise.

Rey twisted back to twine her arm around him and ruffle his hair, moaning into his mouth as he caught her in a sloppy, hot kiss. Their legs tangled together and she smoothed the arch of her foot on the top of his, curled her toes over his in delight. His hand roamed over her front, drawing a ticklish trail from her navel down to comb through her curls between her legs, back up over the grooves of her ribs and to pull at her upturned, pert nipples. She cupped her hand to his cheek and arched her back against him, relaxing into the lazy pace he’d picked. He toyed with her, drawing back until just his tip, slick with her arousal, bobbed between her folds, nudged her clit, then thrusting into her until she squeaked in protest. She was close, so close over and over, then he’d move. She felt like a cat, chasing its tail but never able to grasp the thread of ecstasy that snaked teasingly between them. This went on until she finally cried, “No, no more! I can’t stand it, please!”

He stilled at the apex of one thrust, buried to his hilt in her.

“No more?” He murmured, sucking at the side of her neck. “I should stop now?”

“Noooooo,” she whimpered, bracing her free hand against the wall and pushing back against him.

“Hush,” he grabbed her arm and drew it close to her body so that she was effectively pinned in his embrace.

Oh, but he was so annoyingly confident! Rey closed her eyes and huffed impatiently; for a moment, she felt a glimmer of pure hatred for him. How could he be so calm with his thick, hard cock was sheathed in her? She shifted uneasily, seeking any movement to bring herself the sweet release she so craved. His arm felt like steel around her, but she managed to bring her fingers to press against the heated flesh between her thighs. If he would not please her, she would finish herself.

“Rey,” his voice was low, dangerous near her ear. “What are you doing?”

She only hummed in reply, her eyes closed tight as she rubbed back and forth as best she could, carding her fingers against the grain of her hair and finding the tiny, slick nub of her clit with the tip of her middle finger. She clenched involuntarily at the sensation-- she was so close, so full of him, wanted it so badly. Everything felt… _so_.

As quick as he’d stolen her food, he flipped her face down, her hand still between her legs under her and driving her hips against the mattress with quick, hard thrusts. She was ferociously aware of tiny details as they finally shattered -- his teeth against her shoulder, the rough cotton sheets burning the jut of her hip bones, his lower stomach muscles contracting against her buttocks, the tingling wash of pleasure that felt like divine relief from the hot tension that gripped her. She kept rubbing herself to prolong the sensation as he babbled into her hair, repeating her name like he was praying for his salvation. She clutched at the pillow, pushing it aside and to the floor before he caught her hand and laced his fingers between hers, stilling her where she still writhed beneath him.

“Shhhh,” he whispered, nipping the lobe of her ear and behind it, down her neck and across her shoulder. “You’re alright.”

Rey was only aware she was crying when one of her tears reached the sheet beneath her and spread hot over her cheekbone. Ben released her hand and eased away from her, brushing his thumb over her eyelid and smearing the salty liquid over her temple and back into her hair.

“Are you okay-- did I hurt you?” Ben asked, his voice soft but tinged with doubt.

“Nun-uh,” she managed to croak, finally managing to withdraw her hand and prop herself up on her elbows. “Definitely not,” she shook her heavy head. Her thighs were still trembling with the aftershocks of her climax, and she giggled as she rolled over beneath him to stare up at his concerned face. Tears continued to leak from her eyes as he kissed her languidly.

“Good,” he murmured against her mouth. “So you might wanna do that again sometime?”

She smoothed her fingers, pruned from her own arousal, down his cheeks and into his beard. “Yes, please -- sooner than later.”

He chuckled. “Your wish is my command, madam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone can remember the beginning of this chapter, the mural Rey is looking at is the [Olmsted Theory and Science mural](https://livingnewdeal.org/projects/city-college-san-francisco-theory-science-mural-san-francisco-ca/) In the Science building at SF City College.
> 
> But you can't, can you. Because it rained, and their clothes fell off. Stupid rain. XD


	18. Someone to Watch Over Me

Rey knew it was still raining without opening her eyes. She could hear the water hitting the roof, the side of the house, and the window just fine from her cocoon beneath the quilt with Ben’s back pressed to hers. From the regularity of the rise and fall of his ribcage, he was still firmly asleep. His spine felt very warm along hers, and she thought for the first time in a long time, of her mother. One of her earliest memories of her was sneaking into her parents’ bed after a nightmare, and fitting her back against her mother’s for comfort. Her mother hadn’t woken, but Rey had devised some childish logic that as long as their backs touched, the monsters from her dreams could not reach her.

After her father had taken off, she frequently slept with her mother, and occasionally with one or more of her younger cousins nestled with them or on the foot of the bed. Uncle Unkar never managed to keep a wife but long enough to get her with child, her to get fed up with him, and leave them with another mouth to feed. How he even managed to do that much, Rey had never been sure.

Peeking over his shoulder, Rey found it was still barely light out. She rolled over and pressed her nose to Ben’s back between his shoulder blades, winding her arm under his over his side. It was nearly too warm this way for her to stand it, but she concentrated on pressing her flat stomach against the curve of his body as she breathed.

Despite her best efforts to ignore it, she was conscious that the stone had returned to her middle. With each passing day they spent together without talking about what had happened, it felt like it grew a notch. What had been a tiny pebble had become a rock big enough to kick with her toe down the side of the road, and now was big enough to fill her palm and skip over water with ease.

Nor was she an innocent in the circumstances that kept intervening in their agreement. She tucked her chin to her chest and rested her forehead against his back, gently shaking it against the creeping urge to wake him from his slumber once more. They had easily attained fluency in that method of communication. In hindsight, Rey felt like the present was a foregone conclusion from the first time he’d dared kiss her, along the waterfront. She bit her lip at the memory of how warm his lips had been against her wind-bitten ones, how soft the cloth of his shirt had been under her palm when she’d placed her hand against his stomach.

Ben’s fingers curled over hers and her eyes flew open.

“You awake?” He whispered.

She nodded wordlessly to his back. She shifted towards the wall so he could turn over and face her.  
  
“Good morning.”

She only blinked in response, brushing a long lock of his hair away from his forehead. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Well enough,” Ben replied. “You?”

She nodded. “It’s nice with the rain.”

He draped his arm lazily over her side and traced his fingers down the groove in her spine. Her breath caught when they reached the triangle at the cleft of her rear, over her tailbone and she grasped his elbow lightly.

“We can’t-- I, uh,” she stammered, “We shouldn’t.”

Ben raised one eyebrow in speculation, but withdrew his hand and showed her his palm in submission. “Okay,” he said gently. “That’s fine.”

Rey nodded, her eyes closed. She couldn’t stand to look at him. “I just…. I don’t want us not to talk,” she whispered. “Like we said we would.”

His sigh was heavy, and he shifted onto his back next to her. She peeked at him and saw that his eyes were closed now as well. She shut hers once more and was quiet, listening to the rain and feeling his nearness. She could feel the heat of his body next to hers beneath the blanket, how his deep breaths moved the covers slightly where they rested across her arm, smell the heady mix of his aftershave, the humidity, and the laundry soap on the sheets.

“It’s funny, isn’t it,” he remarked without looking at her. “That talking feels more complicated than…”

“That part’s never been complicated for us,” she said. A abashed smile played over his mouth, twisted up the corner and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“There are worse problems to have,” he replied, “Right?”

“Can I ask you a question now?”

“You just did,” he laughed.

She poked his shoulder hard with her index finger. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course, Rey,” he breathed.

“You know Spanish?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him, realizing he wasn’t going to continue. “That’s it?”

He laughed wickedly. “You need to consider how you’re phrasing your questions. It seems like you just wasted one.”

“You’re infuriating!” Rey exclaimed. “Fine, how do you know Spanish?”

Ben turned back to her and propped his head up on his fist. “Chewie taught me,” he explained. “My father and I lived with him and Rosa for a summer when my folks weren’t speaking. Not here-- back in Indiana. When I was eight,” he trailed off, remembering it. “I really thought that was it for them, that time. It was like… Having a secret only we knew, you know? Something that separated me from the craziness of them.”

She nodded, thinking of how Luke had told her he’d gone into the woods when his parents fought.

“What was it like before your family moved to California?”

Rey closed her eyes and pressed her knuckles against her lips, considering how to answer him. “It was…dry. What I remember most was a tension in our house, all the time, and I was too young to really understand it, but I knew it had to do with money, and with the storms. There were dust storms that would pass through, so thick you couldn't see outside the house, and even with towels under the door and around the windows, the dirt would seep in. My uncle and his wife lived on the same property as we did, in another house, and we wouldn’t see them for days until the storm passed.”

Ben closed his fingers over hers, slowly pulling her hand from her face. He drew her fingers to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on her folded fingers. “And did you ever feel like it was somehow your fault? Like if you weren’t there, things would be alright?”

Rey glanced at him. “Sometimes, yes.”

They lay without speaking for several minutes before Rey asked, “What would you do in the woods when your parents fought?”

Ben looked surprised, and she said simply, “Luke told me.”

“It’s really silly,” Ben trailed off. “I pretended my brother was out there. That he hadn’t died, and that he lived in the woods.”

“In the woods?” Rey repeated.

“It made sense when I was six, alright?” Ben chuckled. “Yes, he lived in a tree, in the woods.”

Rey squeezed her fingers gently inside his, hoping he would go on if she stayed quiet. She wanted to know more, but didn’t want to use another of her questions to find out.

“I’ve never told anyone about that,” Ben finally said. “I always wondered if Luke suspected, but he never asked. He’d just come and collect me when it got dark, or too cold to be outside. But until then? I had a whole other world out there.”

He narrowed his eyes, looking at the wall behind her more than at her. Over his shoulder, she could see daylight dawning faintly through the window. The storm clouds were thick and dark, and she could now clearly see the rain that was pelting the windowpane.

Ben continued. “I had this book about the legend of King Arthur and his court that I was fascinated with at that age, and with my brother, we were knights. His name was Ren, so we were the Knights of Ren.” His eyes glittered with amusement at the memory. “The order was named for him instead of me, so it’d be more secretive,” he explained.

“Was his name actually Ren?” Rey asked before she could stop herself.

Ben shook his head. “It was Owen, but I thought Ren sounded a lot better because it rhymed with my name.” He smirked at himself. “I told you it was silly.”

Rey shifted forward and pressed her lips to his, hard, pulling him to her with a hand on the back of his head, tangling in his dark mane. It took a moment before he responded in kind, parting his lips to let their tongues slide hotly against one another. She felt like she wanted to lie here forever, just kissing him. He leaned in and pressed her back to the pillow, his hand that cupped her jaw sliding slowly down her neck to her br--

“Ben!” A sharp knock at the door startled them and they broke their kiss. It was Han.

Ben glowered for a moment before retorting, “Dad, what?!”

“Chewie’s leaving for work soon. If Rey wants a ride, she needs to get ready on the double.”

“Why does he assume I’m the one keeping us in here,” Ben whispered in pretend annoyance. “You were the one who started this.”

Rey merely smiled in response and kissed him once more before she called, “Thanks, I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Do you want me to come meet you for lunch?” Ben offered as he watched her draw on her still-damp clothes.

She hesitated, picturing him in the shop amongst Chewie’s cousins. “I need to go by Jessa’s and pick up some fresh clothes after work,” she explained. “I can come here this evening after that, but it’ll be later on.”

“So I’ll come for lunch,” he concluded. “Don’t worry, I won’t get between your blow torch and your beams. I know Chewie’s got you busy.”

“Alright,” she agreed. “See you later, then.”

* * *

 

By 12:30, the rain had let up enough for them to slip out the back door and stroll towards the bay, overlooking the docks and cranes that dotted the shoreline along the inland side of the city. Han and Chewie had immediately set to pouring over the sale paper together when they’d arrived that morning, speaking in excited half-sentences that only they seemed to understand.

“Chewie!” Han exclaimed, stabbing his index finger at a particular listing while sipping at the mug of steaming coffee. “Look at thi--”

“Nuh-uh,” Chewie muttered, reading over Han’s shoulder and blowing on his own cup to cool the scalding liquid. “You’re a crazy sonuvabitch, but you’re not crazy enough to want--”

“You’re right,” Han would shake his head. “You’re right, it probably needs a complete overhaul and then some.”

They went around and around like this all morning. Rey smiled to herself and welded steadily.

They came to the end of a street overlooking a steep drop and sat on the barricade in the cul de sac. Gulls wheeled overhead, and they could see the occasional pelican dive-bombing the water, submersing and coming back up with a fish still struggling in its beak.

“Are you up for more questions,” Ben nudged her with his elbow.

“I think you have more left than I do,” Rey smiled. “I’m not as good at rationing as I used to be, I guess.”

Ben sighed deeply but he was smiling as he scrubbed his toe in the wet dirt. “What’s going on with you and Jessa?”

Rey bit her lower lip as the stone in her middle grew despite the sandwich she had just eaten. “That is… An interesting question,” she hedged. She squinted out over the water, but she could see him studying her in her periphery.

Rey crossed her arms and hugged her elbows. “We had a fight,” she said simply, not wanting to elaborate.

“I gathered that much,” Ben replied.

“Things haven’t been right between Jessa and Jack since he got back,” Rey said hesitantly. “Jack was having trouble finding work-- I told you that part-- and they’ve been fighting, quite a bit.”

Ben looked down and away from her at this.

“Jessa helped Jack get the job with his uncle’s mortuary,” Rey continued. “I think I told you that, too.”

“Right, but I didn’t understand why she had to help, since it’s his family.”

Rey nodded and leaned over, pressing her forearms against her abdomen. “That’s true… I said something I shouldn’t have about that, and Jessa’s angry with me for interfering.”

She could see his brow furrow at this information. Ben pushed himself reluctantly to his feet and turned to face her, bracing one foot against the metal barricade and leaning his elbow on his knee. Rey looked down at the toes of her boots and didn’t say anything.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Ben,” she shook her head. “Please don’t push.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but said nothing. He straighten up, pacing in a slow loop in front of her. Ben shoved his hands in his back pockets and shrugged his shoulders as though to relieve tension in them.

“Alright,” he said at last. “Do you need to get back?”

“Pretty soon,” she shrugged. “Do you want to walk a bit further?”

He extended his hand to her and she grasped his fingers lightly, dusting off the seat of her overalls out of habit.

“C’mon, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone -- I know this is a short chapter, but in a strange case of life imitating art (as if this is actually art!), we had to make an emergency trip back to San Francisco this week. Keep your fingers crossed that things turn out alright with this medical thing my fiancee's mom is having, and please know I would rather be writing Reylo than dealing with any of this. 
> 
> Interestingly, I saw an ad on TV last evening for rentals in a new apartment complex in the neighborhood where Chewie's shop is located here in RWIA; the junior studio floorplans are renting "from the $2700's". ULGH.
> 
> OTOH, our OTP are starting to talk! About Stuff! :)


	19. Coffee in the Morning (Kisses in the Night)

Rey let herself in that night to find the apartment still and empty. Although it was just past seven, it was already well after dark, but neither Jessa nor Jack were home. Rey could not deny the feeling of relief that swept over her that she would not have to creep around as she gathered her things.

She peered into the kitchen and noticed a handwritten note affixed to the icebox with a magnet.

_Jack -- don’t wait up. I’ll be out late this evening. Love you, J._

Rey sighed, imagining where Jessa was, and with whom. Magnin’s closed at six. She was due to meet Ben and go to Captain Dameron’s place for a late dinner.

She drew a quick bath and shucked her overalls, slipping into the warm water eagerly to submerse and wet her hair. It had been days since she’d been home, and she relished the brief time unaccompanied. It was the strangest thing: when she’d been crowded with her family, she had sought every opportunity to be by herself, and once she was surrounded by an entire city full of strangers, she had never felt more alone in her life. It seemed to her that city dwellers had perfected the art of pretending they were the only ones on the planet while being voluntarily crammed into the same postage stamp-sized place.

Rey wrapped herself in a towel and found a dress in her closet. The first one she came to was the navy-blue dress she’d worn the day Ben had arrived home, and she passed it over in favor of an emerald green, long-sleeved one. She hadn’t worn it in months, but it was chilly enough to warrant the additional warmth on her arms.

She glanced at her face in the small mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Her hair was already curling stubbornly from her bath, and she hastily wrapped her towel around it once more to dry further as she dressed. The felted wool was scratchy where it touched her bare skin under her arms and across the top of her back above her slip, but she relished the dry warmth that enveloped her almost immediately. She shimmied to reach the zipper in the center of her back, drawing it closed and smoothing the skirt over her hips. There wasn’t time for a full hair-do, so she swept the front of her hair up and away from her face, fixing it with a couple clips behind her head. She applied a layer of lipstick to her lips, and smeared a little of the waxy substance on her cheeks to brighten them up.

Not her best effort, but it would do. She shoved a change of clothes into a small bag and made for the door.

Ben was waiting on the corner by the streetcar stop at the corner of Market and Church, reading a book when she stepped of the bus across the street. He had one hand shoved in his coat pocket at his side and cradled the book by its spine in his other, his long fingers wrapped across the top to keep the pages from fluttering in the stiff wind. Damp, brown chestnut leaves lay in piles in the gutters, and Rey stepped gingerly across and over a puddle lurking beneath them. Her kitten heels clacked on the wet pavement, and she shivered when the wind blew up her skirt as she crossed the street.

“Ben!” she called, waving to him.

He glanced up from his book at her, a slow smile creeping over his features. Rey smiled up at him and stopped a few paces away, waiting for him to close the distance between them. He shut his book with a slap and pocketed it in his overcoat, ambling towards her unhurriedly.

“Do you know where we’re going,” she asked breathlessly, “I don’t know this neighborhood very well.”

“Good evening, Mrs. Solo,” Ben smiled. “Why yes, I did have a nice afternoon. It’s good to see you, too.”

She wanted to slap him for his sarcasm when she was sure they were later than expected, but he leaned in and caught her in a kiss before she could protest. She placed her gloved hand on his chest to keep him from lingering too long.

“Hi,” she said shyly, looking at him through her lashes as he drew back up to his full height.

“You look lovely,” he complimented her, offering her his arm. “And I know the way, thank you.”

Rey tucked her pocketbook beneath her opposite arm and let him lead her into the numbered avenues, past the historic mission church towards Guerro. They rang the bell and tramped to the third floor, standing expectantly outside the door marked number eight. Rey was breathing hard from the climb, and she pressed her lips together, hoping her lipstick looked even. She hadn’t bothered to blot it before running to the bus.

Following Ben’s knock, the door opened a crack, but shut again almost instantly. They heard the rattle of a chain lock being removed, and the door swung wide.

A young colored man in wide-legged trousers with a sweater vest and rolled-up shirtsleeves stood before them. He pursed his lips at them and frowned slightly. He was wearing an apron covered with smatterings of flour.

“Oh!” Rey exclaimed. She recognized him instantly as the piano player from the Painted Lady. “I’m sorry, I think we must have the wrong apartment?”

The young man cocked one fist on his hip and looked between them, peering up at Ben. “No, it’s the right one, honey. Poe said you were...tall,” his gaze raked down the length of Ben’s frame in a way that Rey could only think to characterize as appraisal. “I’m Finn-- Poe’s my… roommate. Come in, won’t you?”

Rey took in the living room of the place as she placed her bag on the telephone table and let Ben help her out of her coat.

“Poe stepped out to the liquor store,” Finn explained before they could ask. “We were out of wine. You two aren’t tea-totalers, I hope? Here, let me take your coats.”

“Thank you,” Ben finally said, relinquishing their damp overcoats. “I’m Ben, and this is Rey, and we’ve been known to have a few too many.”

“I’m going to hang these in the bathroom to dry,” Finn called over his shoulder, already halfway down the hallway. 

Rey raised her eyebrows at Ben as he shrugged. She pantomimed playing a keyboard. 

 _I didn’t know_ , he mouthed, and they snapped back to attention when they heard Finn’s steps approaching.

“Please, please-- sit down,” Finn gestured to the couch. “Can I get you a cocktail? Wine’s for dinner, of course.”

They perched delicately on the sofa.

“I’d love a gin, if you have it?” Rey suggested.

“And I’ll take a scotch,” Ben replied.

“Tonic for you, darling?” Finn smiled at her. She nodded, and noticed how his smile transformed his face. She ventured a shy smile before he turned and went to the kitchen to retrieve their drinks from a bar cabinet visible from the living room.

The small living room was, in a word, stuffed. Rey had yet to be in a San Francisco apartment that didn’t seem so, but Captain Dameron’s was particularly full to the gunnels. An upright piano covered with songbooks and music sheaves stood against one wall, dozens of houseplants filled the sill of the bay window, and stacks of books lined the end table and towered in piles on the floor at the corners of an armchair with carved wooden arms. Rey cocked her head sideways to read a few of the titles before studying the framed photographs on the wall above the piano. A plethora of handsome, dark-eyed men stared back seriously and she assumed these to be Poe’s relatives. The crew was punctuated by the occasional woman with dark, curly hair.  

“This is a nice apartment,” Ben remarked loudly enough so that Finn could hear him around the corner. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, this old place?” Finn’s disbelief was clear in his tone. “Poe’s grandmother had it for the longest time, but he moved in after she got too frail to live alone. She’s back with his folks, now. I moved here in ‘42, and I think Poe’s been here since 1940, at least.”

“I like your plants,” Rey offered, marveling at the bevy of succulents they had tamed into terra cotta pots. “How did you get all these cactus to bloom? I’ve had horrid luck with them myself.”

Finn appeared with a glass in each hand. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m kind of a Big Deal with plants. You have to show them who’s boss,” he deadpanned. “Threaten them with the street if they don’t put out.”

Rey giggled and reached for the drink. “Thank you.”

Ben looked amused, but it didn’t blossom to a full smile as he accepted his glass from Finn.

“That dress is a beautiful color on you, Rey,” Finn eyed her dress as he tucked himself onto the armchair opposite them. Rey noticed how he crossed his legs at the knee and folded his fingers primly on his thighs. “It brings out the green in your eyes.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. “Is this your piano?”

“Work,” Finn dismissed her question with shrug.

“It’s nice of you to have us over,” Ben ventured, sipping at his drink.

“I understand you flyboys stick together,” Finn replied. “I could hardly have said no.”

A beat of awkward silence passed before Rey thought to try her drink. The gin and fizzy tonic pricked her tongue and the roof of her mouth before she swallowed. “This is delicious,” she complimented Finn with a lift of her glass.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he replied graciously, and just as he began to reply, the door burst open and Captain Dameron, through it.

“Ben, Ben, Ben!” he shut the door with a slam behind himself and barreled towards the couch. Ben rose and they pulled each other into a stiff, one-armed hug, much as Ben had done with Chewie, but careful now not to slosh Ben’s scotch.

“You’re sight for sore eyes, buddy!” Poe beamed at Ben and nodded at Finn. “I see you’ve already met?”

“Met and wet,” Ben’s eyes fairly twinkled as he raised his glass in thanks at Finn.

Finn glanced between them, then at Rey, his mouth now set in a line. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he shook his head ever so slightly at her before rising and stating, “I need to check on the roast.”

“Oh, here,” Poe fairly shoved a brown paper bag into Finn’s arms.

Finn paused and drew the neck of the bottle partway from the sack to examine it. “You got chardonnay,” he said flatly.

Rey didn’t know much about wine, except that this was a white one.

“Right,” Poe nodded enthusiastically. “Is that alright?”

“You got chardonnay… to go with beef roast?” Finn asked. Rey could tell by his tone that this wasn’t really a question.

Poe’s smile fell a touch. “Not the right one, huh?”

Ben let his hand drop from Poe’s shoulder and placed it in his pocket.

Finn rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen without another word. There was a loud thunk as the bottle hit the counter.

Rey rose and said softly, “It’s nice to see you again, Poe. I’m going to see if I can help in the kitchen.”

Poe blinked at her in silent gratitude. “You too, Rey -- you look gorgeous, by the way. That color really suits you.”

Rey blushed. “So I hear,” she demurred and sidled past the men to enter the kitchen.

Much to her surprise, the kitchen looked like something had exploded inside of it. She had expected some mess based on Finn’s appearance, but this was…

“Oh, honey-- no!” Finn shook his head and waved one finger warningly when he saw her. “You don’t have to help, things got a bit out of hand in here earlier.”

“I don’t mind,” Rey smiled. “I’m sure Ben and Poe have things to catch up on.”

Finn continued shaking his head emphatically. “The most I would let you help with is setting the table. Deal?”

She surveyed the scene: bowls sticky with some kind of pastry dough piled in the sink, a roll of twine unraveling on the counter, a stack of dinner plates dusted with flour perched precariously at the end of the tiny countertop.

“Those plates?” she gestured towards them.

“Please.”

“Of course,” she exited the kitchen and shuffled several music scores to the sideboard to clear the table.

* * *

 Cigarette smoke hung in tendrils in the lamplight as Rey leaned back in her chair to get more air to her lungs. She had eaten so much she could barely breathe, and yet she wanted to eat more of the peach cobbler Finn had made for dessert. Her head swam with the food and the many rounds of drinks-- currently brandy.

“This one is a disaster,” he kept protesting their compliments. “My grandmother would die all over again if she knew I’d used canned peaches, but it’s just not the season for them.”

“My grandma always said gourmet food was any food she didn’t have to cook herself,” Poe replied. “So by her definition, we’re having fine dining tonight.”

“Last time I checked, your _abuelita_ is also blind,” Finn retorted, but he was smiling across the table at Poe.

Rey smiled sleepily at her half-eaten cobbler. She liked Finn, and had thought about him many times over the last several years since she’d last seen him at the docks at Fort Mason. She doubted he remembered seeing her in the fray.

“So,” Ben finally asked, “How did you two meet?”

Poe and Finn exchanged a guarded look across the table.

“Well,” Finn began. “I was working…”

“And I went to the club where Finn plays with some friends,” Poe supplied.

“Then I found a tip in my jar with his number on it,” Finn could not suppress his grin. “The rest is history.”

“Y’know, Ben, you never did tell me how you met Rey,” Poe remarked, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and exhaling the smoke through his nose.

Rey glanced at Ben, wondering what he’d said to Poe about her. It seemed their friendship was not entirely truthful, if Ben had not known that Poe was in a relationship with another man, but Rey understood keeping that dark. Ben spun his glass gently in the ring of condensation, buying time.

“Well, I was out with a friend here before we sailed,” Ben began, sneaking a look at her across the table, “And Rey happened to be out with her friend, at the same place. I waited and waited, thinking someone else would surely go and talk to her, but no one did. So finally when her friend decided to dance with my friend, I went and talked to Rey.”

Finn raised his eyebrow at her. “Did he have a good line? Something smooth?”

Rey laughed, a bit embarrassed at Finn’s interest. She looked at Ben, hoping he might save her, but he shook his head. “Only you can be the judge of that.”

“It was obviously good enough,” Rey concluded. “I mostly recall that you were polite enough to walk me to the streetcar, and persistent enough that I agreed to go out with you.”

“Enough!” Poe cackled and clapped Ben sympathetically on the shoulder. “You were enough, buddy!”

“Such a ringing endorsement,” Ben groused, but she could tell he was playing.

“Enough!” Poe repeated once more. “Maestro, let’s have a tune to ‘enough’, huh? Play us something.”

Finn objected at first, but once they all insisted, he obliged with a flourish that belied his enjoyment of having an audience.

“This one’s a Porter tune,” he said by way of introduction.

Rey immediately recognized the lilting melody as one of her favorites. Finn’s singing voice was surprisingly smoky as he began:

 _Birds do it, bees do it_  
_Even educated fleas do it_  
_Let's do it, let's fall in love_

She pushed back her chair and walked to the piano, perching next to Finn on the bench facing the opposite way into the room, and chimed in on the next verse.

  
_In Spain, the best upper sets do it_  
_Lithuanians and Letts do it_  
_Let's do it, let's fall in love_

“Next one’s yours,” Finn murmured, nodding at her when to start in. She began hesitantly, but her voice grew stronger as she worked through the lines.

 _The Dutch in old Amsterdam do it_  
_Not to mention the Finns_  
_Folks in Siam do it - think of Siamese twins_

Finn followed on with the next line, then they alternated back and forth through the lyrics to a rousing final chorus, swaying against each other’s shoulders like a couple of drunken sailors. He surprised her by singing a harmony line on a couple of the stanzas, and she managed what felt like coquettish innocence as she rendered the double entendres of the song. She and Finn grinned at each other as he pulled his hands back from the keyboard.

Poe clapped, slowly at first but then more enthusiastically and Ben joined in. “To enough! Bravo!” Poe muttered around his cigarette clamped between his lips.

Rey stood and dipped in a mock curtsy as she’d seen royals do in newsreels before pictures, holding the hem of her skirt out so that it would not touch the floor. Finn joined her and they linked elbows, bending forward from the waist in a sloppy mockery of a normal stage bow.

“You can sing with me anytime, Miss Rey,” Finn glowed. “That was better than enough.”

“You were a good lead,” Rey demurred. “But I would like that.”

* * *

 

Back at Chewie’s, they lay together in the narrow bed, and Rey was drifting in and out of sleep when Ben said, “I still have a question left, don’t I.”

Rey opened her eyes once more and found him looking at her. “You do, but I wasn’t going to remind you.”

“Sneaky,” he smiled. “Nevermind, it’s not important. You were almost asleep.”

“No, what’s your question?” she was curious now.

Ben looked down as he asked, “How old were you, the first time you….?”

Rey felt her cheeks flush. Was he really asking her... _that_? “The first time I…?”

“Yeah.”

Rey rolled onto her back and tucked her elbow behind her head.  “I was... almost fifteen.”

“Oh,” his surprise was evident in his tone without needing to look at him. “You were young.”

Rey hid her eyes in the crook of her elbow, biting her lip as she wondered the reverse about him. “I guess so?” she murmured. His response told her he’d been older.

She felt like there was another question hanging between them, but she refused to ask it. He threaded his fingers between hers under the covers and gave them a squeeze.

“Did you love him?”

Rey chuckled at his question. “I don’t think anyone knows what love really is at that age. I don’t remember thinking that at all.”

“Well, what did you think about it?”

She uncovered her eyes and glanced at him. A curious smile quirked his mouth, and she knew he was asking earnestly.

“I thought…” Rey shook her head gently, closing her eyes again. It had been a long time since she’d considered it. It seemed almost like something that had happened to another person instead of her. “I thought... I didn’t know what the fuss was about. That it was strange, and awkward, and it was over so quickly, and that I just didn’t understand wanting to do it again.”

Ben huffed in amusement and pecked her shoulder. “Lucky you changed your mind about that.”

Rey felt chagrined. “No, I only meant-- it’s like anything, you get better with practice.”

“It’s fine, Rey,” he turned her face towards him with a finger on her chin. “I wasn’t trying to trap you. I was curious.”

“Well, what did you think your first time?” she laughed. “Tell me you didn’t think it was strange.”

Ben’s smile dimmed a few degrees and he didn’t meet her eyes. “Well, circumstances were different,” he hedged. “I felt like I really did love the other person, and I was so nervous that it would change how we felt about each other, but... I definitely wanted to. And once we had, I wanted to again.”

Rey drew a deep breath and held it as long as she could stand before letting it out slowly. She closed her eyes and nodded gently. “Right. But circumstances were different.”

“Rey,” Ben’s voice was gentle. “You know you can ask me about… that. I would tell you whatever you wanted to know.”

“I don’t even know what it is I want to hear anymore,” she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in the dark. She could feel the scratchy hotness of tears forming in them, but she refused to blink lest they fall. Ben covered her hand with his and held it where she clutched it to the place where her ribs joined together, and they were silent for a long time. 

Ben rubbed his thumb on her knuckles and finally said, “I hope you still want to hear that I love you.”

She nodded without looking at him. “I do.” 

“I do, too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, a few notes here!
> 
> US Readers, please vote tomorrow! It's important. 
> 
> This is what I imagined [Rey's dress](http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/af/44/56/af44560f07c91f57190cc27cd5d48ea9.jpg) looking like. 
> 
> The song Finn & Rey sing is [Let's Do It (Let's Fall in Love)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cuArUG6sOc), written by Cole Porter but performed by many artists over the years. The original lyrics were pretty offensive and changed later to the version they sing here in RWIA.


	20. A Sunday Kind of Love

Rey woke with a start from her recurring dream, sitting bolt upright and cupping her forehead with the palm of her hand. It throbbed hotly in time with her heart, which seemed to be going much too quick for having just awoken.

She instantly recognized the feeling from many a morning after a night out with Jessa. Ben had woken enough himself to rub the small of her back in circles, but the rhythm of his attentions was erratic and she wasn’t surprised when his hand slipped back to the sheet behind her. Drawing her knees to her chest, she hugged her legs against her queasy stomach. The warm pressure was steadying.

Her head felt thick as she tried to recall what all she had had to drink the previous evening.

Gin and tonic, then chardonnay-- two glasses-- then some port, and she regrettably  remembered there being brandy at the end, after singing with Finn, while they’d lounged in the living room smoking until Ben had poured her into a taxi to return to Chewie’s. It had been quite awhile since she’d had such a vile combination of cocktails.

Rey curled onto her side, staring vacantly at different points in the room. The upper corner by the window opposite the bed. The spot where the wallpaper had begun to curl away at the chair rail. Ben’s trousers draped over the chair, his belt still threaded through the belt loops. Each thing held what passed for her attention until she blinked her scratchy eyes and felt strong enough to fix her gaze on the next thing. How in the stars she had felt well enough to go to work feeling like this was beyond her current level of comprehension. She was nearly twenty-one, but she felt much older at present.

Ben made a sound between a whimper and a moan behind her. “You awake?” he croaked.

“Unfortunately.”

“Ditto.”

“It’s Saturday….” she trailed off.

“Yes,” he agreed.

Her eyes burned with dryness as she closed them against the sunlight impinging on their cocoon of misery. Ben idly rubbed his knuckles up and down her spine, and she concentrated on the repetitive motion of his hand to distract her from the roiling in her middle. It was very nearly hypnotic, and she felt the welcome undertow of sleep beginning to beckon her once more. The pounding in her temples would not cease, so she drifted towards sleep and back, circling it but never quite giving in, until he said, “That was fun last night.”

She shifted onto her other side so she could look at him. He lay with his eyes closed, one hand splayed over his chest and his other, beneath the covers near her thigh. She deliberately moved her leg to brush his hand, and he resumed stroking up and down the bare skin between her knee and her hip.

“It was fun,” she agreed. “We’ve hardly been out with other people our age, ever.”

“I forgot how much Poe can drink,” Ben huffed. “It’s like he has a hollow leg or something. Truly remarkable.”

“I didn’t hear you saying no,” Rey smiled, tracing one fingertip gently around the outline of his hand.

“Didn’t want…. to be rude,” Ben mumbled around a yawn he could not stifle. “Sorry. Not a comment on your company.” He opened one eye and peeked at her.

“No offense taken,” she confirmed, winking back at him.

Just then, there was a metallic crash from the kitchen and they heard Han cursing a blue streak. Chewie’s low voice echoed from the upper level of the house down the stairs, and Han retorted something that was unintelligible to them through the door. 

“Just like old times,” Ben breathed. “Never a moment’s peace.”

Rey smiled privately and closed her eyes once more. She loved to lie in bed as the household was getting going for the morning, knowing she had nowhere in particular to be. On Saturdays at Maz’s, she would make a mental checklist of all the places she might go that day, and lie in so long she frequently didn’t get to even a fraction of them.

Her mouth watered despite her roiling middle at the thought of a pastry from one of the Italian bakeries, dusted with powdered sugar and filled with sweet almond paste.

She loved the crowded, narrow streets through Chinatown, the press of the myriad shoppers hurrying about and strange foods on display in every shop window. There were vegetables and fruits the likes of which she’d never seen in all her years on the farm, dead ducks and roasted chickens hanging by their feet, all manners of dough flash-fried into donuts dusted with glistening sugar.

She longed for the the quiet solitude of a stroll around Lake Merced, the cedars and eucalyptus dripping with moisture and rowing teams disturbing the still surface. Too bad it was in such a remote corner of the city from their present location.

“We should go out,” Rey said, sitting up. “We can’t waste today lying here.”

Ben draped his elbow over his eyes. “Why, is someone going to come round us up if we do?”

She turned back to look at him and regretted moving so quickly. Her mind and midsection seemed not to be in agreement about such action.

“C’mere,” Ben pulled her to him, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. “What’s your hurry?”

Rey rested her cheek uneasily against his chest. She felt like she was running too warm, sweating lightly, but she had to admit it was nice to be held.

* * *

 

They strolled the narrow streets until they reached the bakery she liked best, where they got an assortment of pastries.

The park lay like an emerald amongst the buildings along Columbus where it cut crossways through the old Italian part of town. Coit Tower sat high above them on Telegraph Hill, poking into the blue sky like an American Pisa. A few families with babies and dogs on blankets sat picnicking nearby as they settled onto the grass. A flock of nuns walked in pairs through the park, obviously on their way to the cathedral along the north edge. Its twin spires topped with crosses could be seen from quite a distance if one knew where to look.

“Are you feeling better,” Ben murmured, stretching his long legs out next to hers. “You were looking pretty rough this morning.”

Rey smiled in amusement. “So were you,” she confessed.

Ben groaned, but it turned into a chuckle. “Touché.”

They lay in sated silence for a long time, their fingers twining gently between in the grass. Rey shivered occasionally as the breeze swept over them, but the strong sun felt like it was soaking up the last of her hangover.

“Your father is heading home soon?” Rey asked.

Ben yawned. “Yeah, his ticket is for tomorrow. He should leave before they drink San Francisco dry.”

Rey giggled. “Unlikely. Do you think your mother misses him?”

“Absolutely,” Ben said unequivocally. “I think that’s half the reason he leaves-- to remind her why she needs him around.”

She turned her head to the side to peek at him. He was reclining with his eyes closed, his hat over his forehead to shade his face from the sun. He had a spot of powdered sugar on his sweater from their pastries.

Rey turned her attention to the sky, watching idly as the clouds drifted by.

“What do you think that one is?” Rey pointed to a cloud drifting overhead.

Ben lifted the brim of his hat where it rested over his eyes to peek at the sky. “It looks like Artoo,” he pronounced.

Rey giggled. “How are the dogs?”

Ben snorted. “Hopeless. They’re like toddlers who will never grow up.”

“Why do you hate them so much,” Rey asked, propping her head up on her hand. “What did they ever do to you?”

“I don’t hate them,” Ben objected, burrowing his chin backwards towards his neck. “Just because they’re hopeless and have no manners, doesn’t mean I hate them. Artoo used to keep me company a lot.”

Rey closed her eyes, picturing him working at his desk with Artoo breathing hotly at his ankles. She tried to suppress a chuckle, but it escaped her in a huff.

“What?!” Ben feigned indignance. “He listens very well, and doesn’t give a lot of self-important feedback.”

Rey blew a raspberry at this. “Maybe you should’ve married him, if that’s what you like.”

She regretted it as soon as she saw how his face went blank.

“Ben, I was--”

“Just say it, Rey,” he cut her off. “Whatever it is you want to know, ask me. Please, I can’t stand this any more.”

She pushed up onto one arm, sitting on the side of her hip and curling her legs under her, staring down at him. He shielded his eyes from the sun and squinted up at her, one eye closed and the other not more than a slit. She flopped back on the grass and closed her eyes, working her mouth to speak several times before she haltingly managed to say something.

“Did you… see her? After I left?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate as he said it, and his tone told her he felt this should’ve been a foregone conclusion.

Rey’s face screwed up involuntarily in anticipation of the tears she felt pricking her eyes already. Her chin and her lower lip trembled, and a hot lump in her throat threatened to strangle her. She could only whisper around it.

“And did you…?”

“Of course not!” Ben sounded insulted at the suggestion. She heard him sit up next to her. “ _Jesus fuck_ ,” he muttered under his breath.

“Then… _why_?” Her voice broke as she tried to use it despite the anguish that gripped her throat.

Ben huffed heavily. Rey covered her eyes with her hand, pressing her eyeballs into their moist sockets until starbursts of red and green swam before her closed eyes.

“Rey, honestly,” Ben sounded exasperated. “Why do you think? I needed to apologize, to acknowledge my part in what happened after I left! How do you think I could have lived with myself if I hadn’t?”

Rey sat up now, curling like an egg over her bent legs and cradling her aching forehead in her palms. She heard him fishing a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, the snick of the lighter case opening, and his deep puff as he exhaled a lungful of smoke. It wafted over her and she scowled at her thighs.

“Well?” she demanded, not sounding nearly as forceful as she would’ve liked. “What did she say?”

Ben flicked the ash into the grass before he answered. “First, that what happened was both our faults. We were both there, and neither of us said no.”

Rey sucked a hard breath through her stuffed nose in response.

“Next, she was sure I would’ve read the letters by the time they came over for dinner, so she couldn’t understand why I was acting like nothing had happened. And she couldn’t understand why I didn’t leave a forwarding address,” he continued. “That I was an idiot for leaving my family hanging about my well-being over a… an ideological disagreement. And she’s right, my mother still hasn’t gotten over that.”

“Your mother hates me,” Rey remarked pitifully, the sound muffled by her body.

“No, Rey,” Ben said with certainty. “She doesn’t hate you at all. She’s mad at me, and probably will be for awhile yet. But she’s… a pragmatist. She knew Lyn and I were on the rocks, and had been for a long time.”

“But….” Rey hated herself for asking, but the question had been nagging her now for months. She finally raised her head and wiped uselessly at the tears that were threatening to spill over. “You said you had ended things, right? So why did you--”

“You know why!” Ben hissed, turning towards her now and gripping her chin firmly so she had no choice but to look at him. “Why did you come to my room before you left, huh? Answer me that. You were furious at me, so why?”

“I--I…” she shook her head as much as his grip would allow. “No, I don--”

“No, you do know,” he insisted. “Love and hate don’t feel that different at times, do they? Because I’ll tell you what, from my side-- both those times felt pretty much the same.”

He released her chin with a rough jerk that tugged at her cheek. She broke his gaze when she scrubbed the heel of her hand at her cheekbones.

“And,” he continued after taking another drag of his cigarette and flicking the ash, “I needed to ask the chancellor for a reference, so I would’ve had to see him one way or another. How horrid would I be to come begging for his help without at least trying to reconcile things?”

“A reference?” Rey repeated hoarsely, wiping her nose on her thumb. Ben fished his handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her without comment.

“Yes,” Ben said flatly. “For the application for this position. So I could get back here, to you.”

Rey stood shakily and paced in front of him, clutching the damp cloth in a tight ball. “So why didn’t you read the letters? You knew what they were, that they were from Evel--”

She shook her head vehemently as she saw him open his mouth to retort.

“Don’t interrupt me!” Rey almost stomped her foot. “I was there, I saw the look on your face when you found them-- you _knew!_ ”

Ben shook his head and circled his arms loosely around his bent legs, flicking his thumb several times at the end of the cigarette. Without any ash left to fall away, the tip flared angrily at being jostled.

He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “You’re right, I did.”

Rey stopped dead in front of him, arms crossed. She felt herself deflating, her posture sinking in on itself. She narrowed her eyes at him, then rolled them and continued pacing.

Finally he went on. “Of course the…that _possibility_ had crossed my mind,” he admitted. She very nearly sneered in disgust at his response. She drew a deep lungful of air and held it until her body screamed for more, exhaling what felt like her entire insides.

“So why?”

“Oh, Rey,” he sighed, “Don’t be obtuse.”

She stared at him, then tipped her chin defiantly. “I don’t know what that means.”

Ben tucked his chin to his chest. “You’re being… willfully ignorant.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, does it,” Rey said.

He peered up at her, his eyes barely slits in the strong sun.

“Because I was scared, that’s why. I was scared.”

Rey stared at him, shaking her head and working her mouth. She thought of a number of retorts, but the one the finally tumbled from her mouth was, “You _lied_ to me. You knew I would be upset, and so you chose not to tell me.”

“I don’t think what I did is the same as lying, but yes,” Ben countered.

“How is it not?!” Rey balled her fists and held her arms stiff against her sides. “You’re infuriating! Talking me in circles so I can’t argue with you!”

“So are you!” Ben finally leapt to his feet and stepped closer to her so that he towered over her. “Look, I’m sorry, Rey, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Alright? You know I can’t go back and undo the past, all we can do is move forwards. I’m sorry for being a coward and not owning up to my past mistakes, but I’m trying to. But…” he spluttered to a stop, seeming to think better of what he might say. Then he continued anyway. “But it’s starting to feel like you don’t want to reconcile!”

“You should’ve told me,” Rey spat. “There were plenty of chances to at least mention that _possibility_.”

Ben tossed his head and combed his long forelock out of his eyes with his free hand. “And what would you have done? Hmmm? How would your knowing about Evelyn have changed things? Would you have wished I hadn’t made it home, is that--”

“No!” Rey cried. She could not believe she was hearing this from him. “How can you say that, when I spent two years waiting for you? Not knowing most of the time if you were alive?”

Ben groaned in exasperation and stood now, turning his back to her with his own arms crossed. “That’s unfair, you knew I would be gone and might not make it back.”

“What’s unfair, that I had hope?” Rey moved around in front of him, where he could not avoid her. “Tell me, what’s unfair about expecting honesty from the person you love?”

“Nothing, there’s _nothing_ wrong with that, except that it’s completely childish to believe that there’s an absolute truth and that it’s always the best option!” Ben’s cheeks were beginning to flush with the heat of their argument. “I love you, that’s why I chose not to tell you something that would only hurt you and make you doubt my intentions towards you!”

“I never doubted you until I found out you had lied to me!” Rey yelled, turning the heads of some of their fellow park-goers. “Can’t you see that? I had faith in you, in your promise to me, that you’d return to me, that you loved me, but now?! Now I can hardly think of any of that without second-guessing it! Do you know what that feels like? To think that for more than two years, I was believing in something that might have been a false hope all along?”

 Ben only hung his head and slouched, one hand on his hip. He flicked his head to the side several times, only to have his thick hair fall back into his eyes. The silence between them grew more awkward with every breath, and Rey crossed her arms with her fists still clenched as she waiting for him to reply. 

“Rey,” his voice was quiet, but very even, “I came back to you. I’ve come back to you twice now. I’m standing here, right now, because I want to be here. So, if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be, please-- just go.”

Her mouth fell slightly open, and a sob caught her breath. She turned halfway away from him, half-expecting him to catch her arm, but he only placed his free hand in his pocket in response. She could see him eyeing her cautiously in her peripheral vision, and she hitched her arms tighter, making her body smaller. 

He took a step towards her, close enough now that he brushed her elbow. She couldn’t shrink in on herself any further, and would have had to move to avoid touching him. 

Rey stood her ground and looked directly at him, looked at him until he broke eye contact to look at the ground. 

She wanted to hit him, to fall on him with her fists until he knelt before her and begged for mercy.

She felt like crying, tearing fistfuls of the green grass up by the roots and flinging them at the couples eavesdropping nearby. 

She hated that she still loved him, despite his confession. 

“Ben,” she turned to face him again, peering up at his hang-dog face. He glanced up at her and looked down immediately. “I don’t want to go, and I don’t want to fight you anymore.”

He sighed deeply, and he closed his eyes in obvious relief. 

She stood on her tiptoes and clutched his sweater to keep her balance as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. He shrank back for an instant, tucking his chin in and away, before his eyes opened and his arm snaked around her back. He pulled her up and against him, and she could feel his manhood twitch against her stomach as their tongues met. 

A murder of crows broke with a start from a nearby tree, cawing loudly as they fluttered and swirled into the sky above their heads. Rey pushed her hands uselessly up his chest and tangled her fingers in his unruly hair, pulling her down to him and was gratified when he gasped into her mouth. 

“Rey, wait,” Ben breathed, breaking away from her and setting her carefully down. “We’re in a park!” He looked embarrassed, stealing glances at the families seated nearby pretending not to see them. 

Even this mild admonishment made her irritable, and bold. “Then we need to go somewhere else!”

A smile played at Ben’s lips, and she could tell he thought she might be joking. It vanished as she continued staring heatedly at him, and he glanced sideways to the edge of the park. 

“You’re not religious, are you?” he asked. She followed his gaze to the church. 

“Are you serious?” Rey whispered, even as he pushed her away to grab his hat where it lay on the grass.

The hungry way his gaze flicked up and down her body answered her question even before he took her hand and set off at a rapid clip across the park, towards the twin spires. Her heart was in her throat as she tripped along behind him, letting him drag her by the wrist. The moments they had to wait to cross the street felt like an eternity, and he took the stone steps two at a time. 

They burst through the double wooden door, and came to a stop just inside it. Rey could feel her heartbeat in her stomach as the door swung slowly shut, muffling the traffic sounds from the street outside. The sanctuary was dark, and the door’s closure echoed flatly on the stone of the rounded arches along the sides of the pews. It was rather dark inside, the only light issuing from the stained glass windows high above. The entire room was bathed in a low, colorful light, while the beacon of the eternal flame glowed somberly behind its crimson glass lantern. 

“Follow me,” Rey twined her fingers in his, and lead him towards the narrow, spiral stairway to the choir loft.


	21. Body & Soul

Rey trailed her free hand along the stucco wall, alternating her fingertips and her knuckles, as they ascended to the second story of the church. The carpeting underfoot dampened the sound of their footsteps as they trod delicately onto the balcony overlooking the hall below. They paused for a moment, considering, before Rey spied a door on the opposite side, nearly hidden flush with the wooden paneling that lined the space.

“What’s that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know, but why are you whispering?” Ben whispered back.

She shrugged and lead him on, pulling with her free hand on the door knob. It came open easily, revealing the organist’s chambers. She glanced back at Ben over her shoulder, and he nodded curtly in agreement, combing his hair from his eyes with his other hand.

The tiny, oblong room contained the organ’s keyboard, lit only by the small, single-bulb light hanging over the music stand and the dim light issuing from the round window at the front of the compartment. Ben released her hand to close the door firmly behind them, locking it for good measure. Rey perched on the edge of the organist’s bench, placing her pocketbook on the top of the organ cabinet. She turned expectantly towards her husband. Ben lingered by the door, pulling and pushing it against the nonexistent frame several times as though to test it. She noticed how he was clenching his fist at his side, and it was then she stretched out her hand, palm up and whispered, “Ben.”

He glanced at her, and Rey saw the hesitation that had overtaken him. He turned towards her finally, and licked his lips from nervousness.

“Hey,” he breathed.

* * *

 

_April 23, 1943_

The door clicked closed behind them, and they stood awkwardly in the foyer of the apartment. It was the first time they had been alone together all day. The jovial company of friends had buoyed them along through the trek to City Hall, while the liquid courage of whiskey and toasts had sustained them through cocktail hour and dinner.

They had been getting ready to leave when Jessa pulled her aside in the hallway outside the ladies’ room and pressed a key into her hand.

“My cousin is away for a few weeks, and I’m supposed to be housesitting,” she explained breathlessly, her cheeks flushed from many glasses of whiskey. “You probably want to be alone, right?” She lifted her eyebrow suggestively at Rey.

Rey looked between the key and her friend’s smiling face, and simply said, “Thank you.”

Jessa pulled her into a hug then, and Rey stiffened for a second at the unexpected contact. She wasn’t used to such effusive affection, not even from Ben, but she encircled Jessa’s waist with her arms and rested her cheek gently on her friend’s shoulder. The room seemed to be tilting around them, a sure sign she had had too much to drink, and she stared languidly back to the main dining area when Ben sat surrounded by Jack, his red-headed friend Hux, and another gentleman from their air unit whose name had already slipped from Rey’s mind.

“Make him be good to you,” Jessa whispered into her hair. “He seems like a good man.”

Rey nodded, her cheek pulling against the shoulder seam of Jessa’s dress. “Yes.”

Now that they were finally alone, the boldness she had felt was quickly dissolving into something resembling nervous anticipation.

“It’s a nice flat,” Ben remarked, placing the keys delicately on the hall table and craning his head to see into the living room. “That was very thoughtful of Jessa to let us use it.”

Rey nodded, working the pins from her hair that held her veiled hat in place. “Mmmhmmm,” she replied quietly. She placed the hat upturned on the table near the keys, the pins inside it for safekeeping. The bedroom door lay directly in front of the entrance, separated from the main living area by a set of French doors with curtains over the glass to give the illusion of privacy. Ben followed her gaze to the bed, its green quilt pulled hastily up to the pillows by whomever had slept here last.

“Can I….” Ben trailed off, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We don’t have t--”

“I want to,” Rey interrupted him, folding her arms across her middle and tracing the side seam of her dress with her gloved fingertips. Ben bit his lower lip and looked at the floor before reaching for her.

“C’mere.”

She swayed for a moment, dizzy with pent-up anticipation and alcohol, before reaching for his hand. She let him lead her into the bedroom, where he switched on the lamp on the bedside table.

“Let me help you,” he murmured as his fingers snaked around her collar and unhooked the clasp at the top of the back of her dress. She turned her back to him so that he could unzip it, and she shivered to feel his fingertips brush her spine through her slip. A moment later, she felt the heat of his body as he pressed himself to her back, his hand splayed over her middle, then his lips burned a trail from behind her ear to the span of her shoulder.

Rey shuddered with need. She had been here before, but it had never felt like this, this mix of want and fear, of yes and no, of inevitability and uncertainty. She knew the feeling of his hard heat pressing at her lower back, and she moaned as his hand slipped downwards and he pressed two of his fingers to the curve of her body between her legs, through her skirt.

To her surprise, he pushed her gently away and side-stepped around her. His dark eyes were sleepy with lust, and he looked very serious when he asked, “Do you want me to bring in a towel?”

She nodded, realizing he must think this was her first time. What could it hurt-- it was a stranger’s bed. “Please,” she looked at him through her lashes.

* * *

 

_1946_

Ben grasped her fingers lightly and moved towards her where she sat on the hard bench. He sat gingerly next to her, and Rey stood once more to move in front of him. She steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders as she leaned in for a kiss. His hands grasped the bottom of her blouse and began working it loose from the waistband of her high-waisted trousers, and she dragged her nails down his front until her fingers found the bulge in his slacks.

“Mmmmpf, Rey,” Ben broke their kiss, panting. “Are you sure you want to--”

“Yes,” she stopped him. “I am.”

“I don't have anything,” he said.

“I know,” Rey breathed, combing her fingers through his hair and brushing it back from his eyes. “I don’t care.”

Ben looked skeptical until she began to slip off her shoes, then shuck her pants and her underwear. He stared at her lower half, his eyes flicking up to her face occasionally as though to confirm she was still there. She reached for his zipper, drawing it carefully down and working his swollen cock free from the confines of the cloth.

He shifted so his thighs were parallel with the length of the organist’s bench, and she straddled his body. The bench was tall enough she had to stand on her toes to keep from rushing them, but she could feel his tip bobbing against her slick entrance, nudging at her heat. Ben guided her arms atop his shoulders and his arm banded around her bottom to steady her as he leaned back, supporting himself on one arm.

She slid against him eagerly, then down, down, down until she was deliciously full of him. It had only been a few days, but it may as well have been a lifetime by how it felt. Rey grimaced as a swell of pleasure threatened to overcome her already, dug her fingernails into his shoulders through his sweater, stilled her hips to try to quiet the throbbing ache in her core.

Ben tightened his arm around her then, moving her against him despite her attempts to stay still, pulling her down against his own hips with sharp, irregular jerks. She clasped one hand over her open mouth to stifle the wail that escaped her as she bucked against the inescapable pressure of his body. Her climax overtook her in short, violent waves, and the harder she pushed back against him, the harder he drew her to him. Their bodies created an obscene circuit together that seemed to have no way of shorting out; the push and pull of them against one another only doubled the current being generated.

* * *

 

_1943_

He disappeared into the bathroom, and Rey slid out of her dress, hanging it in the closet delicately. It wasn’t really a wedding dress, but rather a white summer dress she’d found at Gump’s; the skirt only reached her knees and the eyelet overlay on the bodice was only reminiscent of lace. She unhooked her garter belt from her stockings and rolled them down her legs, shimmying out of the belt and placing both over the back of the chair that stood in the corner of the room. Her thumbs were hooked into the waistband of her underpants when she thought better of it, and decided to leave them on.

She heard the water running in the bathroom, and the muffled closing of a cabinet door. Rey shivered in the chilly air, looking absently at the framed pictures above the bed before sitting primly on the end and crossing her legs first one way, then the other, smoothing her palms down her thighs and arranging the hem of her slip modestly where it reached halfway to her knees. She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a moment when she heard the door click open next door.

When he appeared in the doorway, her cheeks burned to see he too had mostly undressed. He had a towel bunched in one hand, and he stopped when he caught sight of her. He met her eyes for only the briefest moment before he devoured her, his gaze sliding hungrily from her face down her body and coming to rest on her lap.

Rey felt she should appear modest, but she uncrossed her legs instead and parted her knees aways, leaning back on her hands and drinking him in. She admired the way his lean muscles moved over his tall frame as he entered the room and spread the towel across the bed behind her. He placed a small paper packet near the base of the lamp and her cheeks burned harder in recognition of its contents. Her insides fluttered when he eased onto the bed next to her and drew her up onto the towel with a long arm around her waist. She felt boneless in his arms as his clever fingers stroked up her thighs to her underwear, his thumb caressing the cleft of her body through the dampened material.

The line-dried terrycloth was rough against the backs of her legs, and she rubbed her thighs together in anticipation as his hand slid up under her slip to hook in her panties and he drew them slowly, steadily, mercilessly off her bottom. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. His manhood pressed against her hip through his underwear, and she freed one hand to reach between them and rub the hard length through the cloth where it jutted into the soft flesh of her side.

“You look so beautiful,” he broke their kiss to stare at her. His eyes fluttered closed as she fumbled at the waistband of his drawers, eager to feel him, all of him, in her hand.

She gasped as she closed her hand around him, gauging his girth with her fingers circling around his shaft and letting him thrust into her grip. He was… her stomach tightened at the notion of it inside her. His fingers played at the entrance to her most private place and she shuddered as he worked one long finger between her legs.

He watched her as he pressed his middle finger into her without warning, her body accepting his to the second knuckle before she whimpered at the unfamiliar sensation. She squeezed his cock in warning when he tried to push deeper, keeping them at bay. Rey chewed her lip and clenched her eyes closed.

It was many things, not the least of which was pleasurable. Rey felt a wave of longing that made her limp as he circled his finger inside her, his thumb still stroking at the seam of her womanhood. The insistent pressure he applied telegraphed his intent clearly, and she finally whispered, “Please Ben, I want you!”

He nuzzled her neck in response, easing up on her but not withdrawing his hand just yet. She let her thumb play over the tip of his cock, feeling the telltale slipperiness leaking from there. She spread it over the tip and into the groove on the bottom, tickling the bumpy ridge at the edge of his head. She knew he liked it by how his finger stilled in her momentarily, then pressed strongly against her inner wall.

After what felt like an eternity, he rolled away from her and sat up on the edge of the bed, taking the packet and opening it without a word. Rey hitched her slip up to her waist and unhooked her bra in the back as he took care of himself. She quickly dipped her fingers between her legs, confirming what she already knew: she was soaked with her own slick need, leaking even. She dried them on the towel and tried to assume what looked like a relaxed pose.

She felt anything but, though. How was she supposed to appear, she wondered? His nearness was intoxicating but his nakedness made her suddenly shy. She had done this before, but always with clothes partway on; quick, fumbling, rough encounters that had nothing in common with the polite, delicate terms for intercourse like lovemaking. Men, she reflected, had the right of flaunting their nudity like a badge of honor, whereas her sex was somehow reduced by the same. Their power lay in suggestion, rather than in exhibition.

Ben stood and turned back to her, a smile breaking the tension on his features as he observed the state of her clothes. “Would you rather take those off?” He suggested.

Rey hesitated, her thumb playing at the strap of her slip where it had already slid from her shoulder. “If you want,” she offered.

“It’s up to you,” Ben replied, trailing his fingers down her bare arm. “But I would like to see you.”

He lay beside her, and she tried not to stare at his manhood where it lay flush with his belly, sheathed and ready. Rey sat up and knelt next to him, leaning forwards to kiss him and pressing him back to the quilt. She settled back on her haunches and drew her slip over her head, and slipped her arms from the straps of her bra.

Her first instinct was to cover her chest, but she forced herself not to fidget as he looked up at her. He reached for her hand and drew her close, her bare breasts against his chest and he kissed the top of her head. Her heart was beating so hard he had to be able to feel it where her ribs met his, but he did not hesitate to roll her over to her back. He knelt over her in turn, kissing her messily as he covered her breasts with the flat of his palms and rubbed, pulling gently with his thumb and forefinger as her nipples stood at attention for his affections. She covered his hands with hers, pressing them to her chest and arching her back as though she could fill his hands with more of her than there was.

“Ben, I want you,” Rey sat up on her elbows. “Please…” Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his cock and back.

He rested back on his knees, looking down at her. She let her fingertips skim down her torso, over her pert nipples and to her navel, and it did not escape her notice how his expression changed to watch her do this. His hands rested heavily on her knees where she clenched her legs together, but he broke his hold on her to quickly adjust his manhood.

She propped herself up on one elbow as she allowed him to part her thighs slowly, trailing her fingers lower, lower, lower down her body until she reached the edge of the dark triangle of hair at the base of her legs. Ben’s mouth opened briefly and he bit his lower lip in reverent disbelief as she dipped her finger between her folds and rubbed slow, deliberate circles around the small, sensitive nubbin hiding there.

This, Rey decided, was a special kind of agony. Never before had she been able to so clearly see what was going to happen to her, nor had she been made to wait for it. His thumbs rubbed nervously at the inside of her knees, but a moment later he wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned forward, resting over her. He captured her wrist and brought her hand to his cock.

She felt it brush the heated, swollen flesh between her legs and just then she understood what he wanted from her. The angle was a little high, so she gently guided his tip down and adjusted her hips, teasing him slightly with her body.

He tucked his face to her neck and arched into her with one long thrust. Rey gasped, shaking her head and turning her face to the side with her eyes squeezed shut. She breathed open-mouthed as he pressed into her, filling her to the brim before drawing back. She was dripping, and he slid easily in and out, in and out. He made her feel overly full, but she had never felt such immediate pleasure from this act, either. She had expected a pinch, a twinge of discomfort possibly, something to signal a either beginning or an end; there was none, just the steady, hot congress of their bodies. The heady mix of eagerness and nervousness, his gentle confidence crossed with the sensation of his body invading hers, was already threatening to push her off the cliff of her mounting pleasure into oblivion.

“Is this alright,” he murmured against her neck as he lay kisses on it and nuzzled her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It feels…” Rey couldn’t think of a word that even began to express how it felt to her. “Don’t stop, it feels… _good_.”

“Good,” Ben repeated with a small laugh that dissolved into a wet suckle of her earlobe. “That’s a start.”

“And is it…. Alright for you?” Rey asked hesitantly. She had never had time before during the act to even consider how it might feel for the man.

Ben raised his head and looked at her. “You feel amazing,” he breathed. “You have no idea how good it feels.”

He had stilled for a moment to make his judgement, and her traitorous body filled in the gap in his rhythm by washing her out to sea in a sudden undertow of ecstasy. She opened her mouth but found she could only gasp, sucking air desperately as she spasmed around his hard length. He watched her in awe for what felt like an eternity before raising up to his hands and continuing to thrust at a moderate pace. This was the part where Rey had never known what to do; it was embarrassing to have finished so easily, and she was torn between wishing he could hurry up and hoping his movement would push her over the edge once more.

He slowed, gazing down at her, then drew back unexpectedly. Rey’s eyes fluttered open and she blushed as though he could have heard her thoughts.

“Would you like to be on top?”

She glanced down at his thick cock, slick with her arousal, and her sex clenched at the thought of riding him. She nodded eagerly, and straddled him as he lay back for her. He held himself for her, and she pushed back against him, catching him inside her body once more.

 

* * *

_1946_

“Oh!” Rey exclaimed, clinging to his shoulders as he surged up off the bench and pinned her against the wall. The varnished wood felt cold against her buttocks but the hot press of his cock into her eager cunt made her forget everything around her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and her head knocked back against the wood with a dull thud several times as he pounded her, each rough snap of his hips jostling the sensitive, engorged flesh between her legs in a way that she could only think to describe as pleasurably painful.

“ _Fuck, Rey!_ ” Ben swore through his teeth, and he almost looked angry as he reared back to look up at her.

She cradled his head and tugged at his hair as her lips met his, swallowing his moan as he thrust once, twice more hard into her before she felt the hot gush of his spend filling her. He held her tight to the wall until his breathing regulated somewhat before disentangling her shaking legs from around him and easing her to the floor.

He withdrew and sank back onto the bench, laying back and covering his eyes with his hand for a moment. He was still breathing hard and the sound filled the small room, but the wood absorbed the noise in a flat, anechoic way.

Rey leaned against the wall, one hand on the softness of her belly beneath her blouse and the other, pressed against it to steady her. She could feel the telltale wetness of his seed oozing from her, dampening her upper thighs and cleft where her rear met the backs of her legs.

“May I have your handkerchief?” Rey asked, finding she was a bit hoarse.

“It’s…. you had it last,” Ben said, “You put it in your pocket. Outside.”

Of course. Outside. Where they were ten minutes ago. Rey wobbled forwards to where her pants lay on the floor and fished the still-soggy handkerchief from her trouser pocket and mopped slowly at herself. She handed the cloth to Ben without comment and looked away as he raised his head from the bench to tend to himself. She languidly drew on her panties and slacks once more, then sat beside Ben to slip on her shoes when he sat up.

They sat beside one another, not talking, not touching, for several minutes.

“Thank you,” Rey ventured at last.

Ben glanced at her and shook his head gently. “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he replied. “I know things haven’t been easy between us. Ever.”

Rey stretched her feet out in front of her, flexing and pointing her ankles. “No, they haven’t.”

“Can we just start over?” Ben suggested, his tone light and almost daring her to turn him down.

“Can we do that?” Rey wondered. “I don’t see why not?”

“Fine, then,” he nodded. “Can I keep you company, and buy you a drink?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, readers, countrymen: since it's US Thanksgiving this week, I've been thinking of this chapter as a turducken. A... Smut turducken. A.... Smutducken. It is now fully stuffed and cooked, so eat your fill, but don't forget to save room for dessert, if you're celebrating.
> 
> If not, feel free to gorge yourselves! 
> 
> Either way: ENJOY!


	22. Teach Me Tonight

_June 20, 1946_

Rey shut the door against the stiff wind and sighed, slumping back against it as she unwound her scarf, unbuttoned her overcoat, and slipped her feet into the house slippers waiting by the entrance. How it managed to be so damp and cold here in the summer months, she would never understand. Their house stood in a part of the city that rarely saw the sun in the summertime.

Gathering the mail from where it had spilled onto the rug through the slot, Rey sorted the envelopes and sale flyers into the usual piles, then stopped in the entryway to examine the envelopes. Ben was not yet home from school.

The final envelope in the stack was addressed to her, and Rey sank onto their couch and put up her feet as she stared at the handwriting. The clock on their mantle chimed once at the half-hour mark, and Rey glanced up to see it was already 6:30 in the evening. She had placed the single photo of their wedding in a carved silver frame she’d found at a second-hand store beside it.  

 _Reynata Parker-Solo_ , it read in elegant, evenly-sloping cursive.

Rey recognized the writing immediately.

Was this a joke, she wondered? She placed the remainder of the pile on the coffee table beside her and rested her head back, scrutinizing the writing. She flipped it over and the return address from campus in Indiana confirmed her hunch.

It wasn’t very thick, certainly not containing more than a sheet or two of paper. Rey traced her fingers over her own name, feeling the scant indentation made on the paper by the pen. A twinge of unease gripped her midsection, and she shifted to lying on the couch, her feet dangling off the edge. Just then she heard a key in the lock and the curtains moved faintly with the change of air pressure as the door opened once more.

“Hello?” Ben called from the front door. “You home?”

“I’m in here,” Rey replied, slipping the envelope between the couch cushions and placing a throw pillow over it for good measure.

Ben stepped out of the foyer, grinning broadly at her. “Hey, kid.”

Rey knelt backwards on the couch and presented her lips for his greeting. He leaned on the back and lowered his face to hers, his mouth warm but his cheeks chilled from the wind. He smelled of damp cold.

“How was school,” she asked when he straightened back up.

“Good!” Ben pronounced with a decisive nod. “Good discussion today. You?”

Rey pouted for a second. “Chewie said no more welding, that the degreasing chemicals are too toxic, and scrap runs are too tiring. I’m on front office duty now, but… school was alright.”

“He just wants what’s best for you,” Ben ruffled her hair. “I can’t imagine it’s easy welding like that.”

Rey glanced down at her middle and shrugged. “It’s fine. My apron’s just getting a little snug.”

Ben pressed a kiss to her hairline and reached down to caress her protruding belly. “But classes were alright?”

Rey beamed up at him, placing her hand on his. “It was amazing! I never got to Geometry before, but it makes so much sense! I don't think my classmates like it very much, but it seems easy compared with composition,” Rey wrinkled her nose. “It’s much more straightforward.”

She noticed how his eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth quirked under his beard. “What?!” She exclaimed, “Am I funny?”

“You might be the only person in the history of time to think Geometry was logical,” Ben’s smile eclipsed his face. “But remember, you have a lot more experience with practical application than a bunch of eighteen year-olds.”

“I wasn’t bragging,” Rey said quickly, “I like it.”

Ben cupped his hand to her cheek now, tracing the line of her nose with his massive thumb. “Don’t be too humble, either. You deserve to be there as much as anyone.”

“I know,” Rey gazed up at him, rubbing her fingers absently on her stomach. “You keep telling me.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Always,” she chuckled. “Oooh, you know what sounds good?”

“I’m afraid to know,” Ben laughed.

“Chinese dumplings!” Rey clutched her hands to her heart in delight at the thought. “And a peanut butter sandwich.”

Now it was Ben’s turn to wrinkle his nose. “I might have one of those items. You wanna go now?”

“I wanted to go yesterday!” Rey rose from the couch. “Put your coat back on.”

* * *

 

_January 1946_

“Rey!” Chewie bellowed through the shop, over the din of the grinder one of the crew was using. “Phone for you!”

Rey trimmed back her flame on the blowtorch until it sputtered and went out, and made her way quickly to Chewie’s office door. His eyes twinkled as he handed over the phone, his giant paw dwarfing the handset. He slipped past her with a wink before she closed the door behind him so that she could hear.

“Hello?”

“Rey!” Ben exclaimed. “I got it-- I got the position!”

“Oh!” Rey squeaked with excitement, “I knew you would. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, kid,” Ben breathed. “I can’t quite believe it myself, but the dean said the committee was very impressed with my commitment to finishing up my studies after serving.”

“They should be,” Rey remarked, resting against the edge of Chewie’s desk. “And… I’m sure you came well recommended.”

There was a beat of silence before he acknowledged her. “It certainly couldn’t have hurt.”

“We need to celebrate,” Rey soldiered on. “Do you suppose Captain Dameron and Finn might want to get a drink with us?”

“Already called them,” Ben chuckled. “I don’t think Poe’s ever met a drink he didn’t like.”

Rey giggled. “It certainly seems that way.”

“Say,” Ben said lightly, “Would you want to invite Jessa and Jack?”

Rey didn’t answer right away. “Would you like that?”

“It would be nice to see them,” Ben hedged, “But it’s up to you, of course. We’re going to meet up at the Painted Lady this evening around seven.”

Rey sighed, a knot forming in her stomach. “I’ll call them, but I don’t know if Jessa wants to talk to me.”

They said their goodbyes and Rey pressed her finger against the receiver, then waited for the operator to answer.

“What city?”

“Local,” Rey replied.

“And what extension, please?” The woman sounded polite but bored, almost like an automaton.

“Three-six-oh-five,” Rey said by wrote.

“Thank you, one moment!”

There was a brief click and then the phone started ringing. Rey held her breath and waiting to see if anyone would pick up. It was the middle of the afternoon.

“Hullo?” A deep, male voice answered after three rings. “Uhh, Pav- I mean, O’Shea residence?”

Rey froze. It was unmistakably Matt’s voice.

“Um, hello, Matt?” Rey stammered. “This is Rey.”

There was a pause, and she could hear him breathing heavily into the handset. “Who?” He sounded confused.

“Rey Solo, Jessa’s friend? Her roommate?” Rey felt a rising tide of irritation at his ignorance, whether feigned or honest.

“Oh! The English-with-no-Irish-in-you-gal!” Matt chuckled. “You wanna speak to Jessa, I suppose.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Rey said through clenched teeth.

There was a loud clunk that caused Rey to pull the phone from her ear and stare at it in disbelief as she heard Matt holler, “Jessa! Phone! Your English friend!”

A moment later, Jessa’s voice came across the line. “Hello?”

“Jess, it’s Rey.”

There was a long silence before Jessa replied coolly, “Oh. I was wondering if we’d ever hear from you again. Why did Matt call you my English friend?” Rey pictured her with one eyebrow arched, the telephone cord spiraled around her index finger.

Rey sighed heavily. “It was a joke he made to me the first day we met. It’s not worth repeating. I’m sorry to have been so absent, but… it seemed better if I let you have your space.”

Another long pause. Rey could practically feel Jessa’s shrug of fake indifference across the line. “Ben’s back in the city, to interview for the position at City College,” Rey went on. “He found out today he got it.”

“Good for him,” Jessa said flatly.

Rey swallowed, the ember of unease flaring now in her midsection. “We’re going out to celebrate tonight with some friends of his, at seven. He’d love to see you and… Jack. If you’re not already busy?”

“Listen, Rey,” Jessa said dully, and Rey heard a door close in the background. She imagined Jessa standing inside her bedroom door now. “You should come get your things. You should be with Ben, and we’re…. we’re moving out soon.”

“Oh?” Rey was surprised. It had only been eleven days since their fight on the beach. Rey knew she had been absent for the last week, but this seemed to come out of nowhere.

“We’re moving to Modesto,” Jessa’s distaste was evident in the way she twisted the vowels in the word. “Jack’s uncle wants him to start a branch of the mortuary there. Expand the business.”

“That’s east of here, right?” Rey could vaguely picture it on the map, and she knew it to be a small town. Rural.

“Yes.”

“Well, congratulations to Jack…” Rey trailed off as she heard a loud _thunk_ in the background. “You’ll get to meet new people?”

“Yeah,” Jessa did not sound excited whatsoever. “If you could come by Saturday for your things, that would be best. My family want the apartment back to rent out at market rate.”

“Of course,” Rey promised. “And… if you want a break, we’ll be at the Painted Lady at seven for some drinks. It’s not that far from the apartment.”

“I know where it is,” Jessa replied dismissively. “The boys are ripping things apart here, I’d better stay and supervise.”

Rey wasn’t sure what else to say. “Well,” she hedged, “Perhaps I’ll see you when I come by for my clothes?”

“Maybe. If one of us isn’t here, leave your key on the table, alright?”

“Okay,” Rey replied, and then there was a click.

Rey replaced the receiver and stared at the numerous pinup calendars from years past still decorating Chewie’s office walls. A black-and-white poster with curling edges was thumb-tacked to the wood paneling showing a boat-hulled aircraft soaring low over the Golden Gate Bridge. The coy expressions of the various lascivious ladies made her feel old, and tired. It felt like a lifetime ago since she and Jessa had made their photos to send to the boys.

There was a sharp knock at the door. “Well?” Chewie’s voice was muffled, then he opened the door a crack. “Is it good news? Is Ben a professor yet?”

“He got the job,” Rey smiled at Chewie.

Chewie opened the door all the way then, beaming with pride. “I knew it! They would be fools not to take him,” Chewie straightened up visibly to his full height, proud as a father himself. “That kid’s always been too hard on himself.”

“We’re going for drinks later, if you’d like to join us?” Rey offered.

Chewie dismissed the offer with a wave of his enormous hand. “That’s for the young. Enjoy yourself. Han and I drank about four places dry in the last week. I need my beauty sleep.”

* * *

 

_June 1946_

Rain pelted the roof of their small duplex, but Ben’s breathing was deep and even when Rey crept from their bedroom back to the living room to retrieve the letter.

She delicately switched the lamp on and fished the envelope from its hiding place between the cushions. The corners were slightly crumpled from the upholstery.

Rey gently edged the dinner knife under the back flap of the envelope, slitting the fold of the paper along the top edge. Her stomach churned with nerves, but she drew the crisply creased contents from it and set about unfolding them as she leaned her elbow on the couch arm beside the lamp and tucking her feet beneath her.

She paused for a moment before reading.

_June 14, 1946_

_Dear Reynata (or may I call you Rey?),_

_I have begun this letter more times than I care to admit, unable to find the words to express my feelings. Surely this has happened to you as well?_

_My purpose in writing to you is twofold: firstly, I hope that I might apologize for our first meeting here in Indiana, and secondly, to ask whether you might be willing to meet me in San Francisco in a few weeks’ time._

Rey drew and held her breath as she continued reading. She wasn’t sure which of these two items made her more nervous.

_To say our acquaintance was made under unfortunate circumstances would be a gross understatement, but I feel I must apologize for being so cold to you that evening at Leia and Han’s; by now you certainly know the sordid details of my past with Ben, but that is not, and was not, your concern. I recognize how difficult it is to meet a loved one’s family, let alone contend with the tawdry theater we put on to air our grievances. I hope you can accept my sincere apology for making you feel uncomfortable, and please know it was merely a reflection of my own, profound discomfort._

Rey rested her chin on her fist, rereading these lines over and over. She could scarcely believe them. She could still picture Evelyn’s pursed lips and tense eyes at the table, hear how agitated she had been as Ben had confronted her outside. Just thinking of how she felt that night made her own heart flutter a bit. Could she accept this missive as truthful, or…? She read on.  

_I will be traveling to Berkeley next month for an academic conference at University of California, and I hope it is not too bold to ask if you would be willing to meet me. I will be in the area July 6-10._

_I recognize I am in no position to ask you for anything, but please don’t tell Ben I sent this letter. It is you whom I owe an apology, and it is probably better if Ben and I avoid each other’s company. We have discussed our situation civilly, and I am content to let well enough alone, as they say._

_I very much look forward to receiving your reply._

_With best regards,_

_Evelyn Mara Snoke_

Rey folded the page neatly and slotted in back inside the envelope, replacing it in its secret place beside her between the seat cushion and the arm of the couch. She absently traced the pattern of the floral brocade upholstery, her fingertip numbing quickly as the fabric rubbed it.

Her stomach knotted at the thought of seeing Evelyn once more, but just as quickly, she thought about how it pained her to have left things so unfinished with Jessa. She understood the need Evelyn felt to try to rectify the situation.

But still… Rey smoothed her hand over her nightgown where it stretched taut over her middle and drew the throw blanket over her bare legs. Could she find time to interrupt work and her studies to trek to Berkeley? Her skin itched where it had begun to stretch too tight and Rey scratched delicately at her side. She knew it was nothing unusual, having tended several of her cousins’ mothers during their own maternities.

It was strange to visit the doctor as often as she already had, but it was part of her residual health benefits from the shipyards. Rey found it hard to relax at first, but after five long months she had come to look forward to the check-ups and the fuss the nurses made as they weighed and measured her, took her temperature and her blood pressure and tutted what a beautiful child it would surely be. She no longer smiled shyly at the other mothers in the waiting room, but openly conversed with those she repeatedly saw. It was wholly different than her classes at City College, where she was one of two or three women in most of her classes, surrounded by eager young men in sweater vests and horn-rimmed glasses.

Rey studied the plaster molding around the top of the ceiling as she idly considered whether to accept Evelyn’s invitation, and a strange sadness overcame her to imagine Evelyn, alone and pregnant in a strange city, visiting the doctor by herself without the legitimacy of a husband beside her.

 _Of course_ , Rey thought in irritation at her too-slow brain. She could use a doctor’s checkup as her excuse. It already meant going for the afternoon over to the East Bay to the clinic and a substantial amount of time waiting for transit and to be seen. Ben had managed to make it with her once, and had sat nervously in the waiting room surrounded by other pregnant mothers and toddlers until she had re-emerged to save him. He hadn’t complained, but she sensed the others were amused at his hulking presence and she had assured him it wasn’t necessary to accompany her again. Besides, his schedule had picked up with a second class this summer session and he had things to attend to.

She resolved to respond in the morning, but for now she longed to be curled up in bed. She could rest knowing what was in the letter.

As careful as she was, she felt Ben stir as she slipped back beneath the covers and drew near his back.

“You okay?”

“Just couldn’t sleep for awhile,” Rey whispered. “I’m fine, go back to sleep.”

“You smell like peanut butter,” Ben murmured, then his breathing changed and she knew he had drifted off once again. She pressed her nose to his back and closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure most of you know this, but George Lucas is from Modesto. ;)
> 
> PoetHrotsvitha, this chapter is your doing! 
> 
> I broke my own rules for songs-as-chapter titles (they needed to have been written/published by the time of this story) because the [lyrics of Teach Me Tonight](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/ettajames/teachmetonight.html) are too Reylo-appropriate to ignore. I mean... this song is practically a prototype for Don't Stand So Close To Me, right?


	23. Ill Wind

_ January 1946 _

They drove in silence through the windy, chilly city late on Friday afternoon. Rey had picked Ben up from a faculty orientation meeting at the college. He had answered her polite questions about how it had gone, then fallen silent when she failed to respond with anything further than pleasantries and directions to their destination. Rey looked out the window at the four-story, stucco building as he set the wheels against the curb on the hill. 

“Do you want me to come in?” Ben asked, turning off the key but leaving it hanging in the ignition of Chewie’s truck. 

“No,” Rey shook her head, “I won’t be long, I don’t have many things here. Just a few clothes, really. My trunk is still at Maz’s.”

“Well…” Ben looked unsure. “Tell Jessa good luck from me, and that we’ll come visit them.”

Rey smoothed her clammy palms down her thighs and nodded in agreement. “I will.” 

She felt like there was lead in her stomach as she turned the key and pushed open the heavy wood door to the building, checking the mail table to see if anything had arrived for her. There was an envelope addressed to Jack, and Rey lingered with it in her fingers before electing to leave it there. Jessa’s family would find it, she told herself. 

She was slightly winded by the time she reached the third floor, and she forced herself to breathe deeply against the tense, fluttering feeling where her ribs knit together. Trying the knob, she found it to be locked and breathed somewhat easier to think she could collect her things in peace. The key turned silently, and she opened the door to find the living room bare of furniture. 

A lone picture leaned against the wall, and Rey tilted it delicately back with the tips of her fingers on the edge of the frame to see that it was Jessa’s grandfather’s painting of the goldfish. She studied it one more time before replacing it and making her way to her bedroom. 

Just then, she heard a splash in the bathroom and she froze. 

“Hello?” Rey called. “Is someone there?”

“Rey?” Jessa’s voice echoed in the empty rooms. 

Rey steeled herself and continued down the hall, poking her head into the bathroom. Jessa was kneeling next to the tub, her long hair swept into a messy bun atop her head and thick vulcanized gloves pulled up to her elbows, scrubbing furiously at a rust stain beneath the faucet. She turned back to the doorway and scowled at Rey, her dark eyes flicking once over Rey’s work clothes. 

“Hey,” Rey tried. “I came to pick up my clothes.”

Jessa shrugged and turned back to her work without a word. Rey looked at her friend’s back for a moment before proceeding to the bedroom. 

The futon was gone, but her pile of Ben’s letters was resting carefully on the windowsill, tied with the red, waxed cord she’d received them in from Maz. Rey opened the armoire and retrieved her suitcase from the top shelf, placing it on the floor to receive her clothes.

As quickly as she could, Rey set about folding the few dresses, pants and blouses hanging there, tucking her stockings and underwear around the edges to fill up the remaining space. She slotted her shoes in near the bottom, soles facing out, and wound a brown leather belt around her hand in a coil to nestle in one corner. 

“You can take the hangers if you want,” Jessa’s voice startled her with its nearness. “Otherwise we’ll just have to move them, too.” 

Rey turned to see Jessa standing now in the doorway of the bedroom. 

“Thanks,” she replied. “Ben’s outside, if you want to say hello?” 

Jessa’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“He wishes you two good luck,” Rey continued, feeling her stomach sink in the face of Jessa’s silence.

“I need to finish cleaning the kitchen,” Jessa said at last, turning on her heel and walking heavily away. 

Rey heard the cabinet door bang open and she continued her work. She carefully packed the letters in the lingerie pocket in the top of the suitcase where they would not get wrinkled. Gathering the hangers in her hand, Rey spread them over the top of her clothes as flat as she could, then latched the case. It wasn’t her best packing, but they didn’t have far to go. 

She carried the suitcase down the hall and set it next to the kitchen door, peering inside. Jessa was standing over the sink, running the water and staring at the wall. 

“Can I help you clean?” Rey offered.

“No, thank you,” Jessa said primly, as though it took great effort to be civil. “There’s only room for one of us in here anyway.” She plucked an old toothbrush from a bucket at her feet and set about scrubbing the grout behind the sink, never looking at Rey. 

“Jessa…” Rey took a step towards her, hugging her arms across her middle. “Please, I don’t want to leave things like this between us.” 

“Like what?” Jessa sounded slightly breathless from her scrubbing. “Nothing lasts forever. Everyone’s starting over now, aren’t they?” 

Rey looked up and down her friend’s profile before she said, “You don’t mean that.” 

“Don’t I?” Jessa’s retort was sarcastic. 

Rey took another half-step forward and continued, “You’re always welcome to stay with us when you come back and vi--”

“I have plenty of family to stay with, thank you,” Jessa interrupted. She rinsed the toothbrush and sprinkled more cleaning powder on the tile beside the sink. “So does Jack.”

Now it was Rey’s turn to scowl. “Well, we’d love to come see you, once you get settled and everything…?”

Jessa drew a breath and held it as she vigorously attacked the backsplash area once more. Rey wasn’t sure how much cleaner it could possibly be. The tile was already gleaming and she couldn’t discern any stains amidst the slew of foam from the bleach powder. 

Rey turned from the kitchen and walked slowly to the living room window overlooking the street, her steps echoing on the creaking wood floor in the empty space. Ben was leaning against the passenger side of the truck, smoking. A flock of gulls wheeled high over head beneath the flat grey cloud layer, but Rey could see some sunset peeking through them to the east, over the hills. The long, slender leaves of the eucalyptus tree outside the building swayed as a mighty gust from the ocean pushed past them. 

She had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach as she turned back to the kitchen and reluctantly returned to the doorway. 

“Do I owe you anything towards this month’s rent?” Rey asked quietly. The icebox door was now standing open and Jessa was set to twisting the ice cube trays over the sink to empty them. Rey wasn’t sure Jessa had heard her over the racket until she replied.

“No, Rey, it’s fine. You can leave your key on the counter here.”

Rey swallowed and set her teeth. Her anxiety was being replaced now by a different sensation altogether. In her mind’s eye, she pictured a hydraulic system, a fluid displacement where one tube filled with liquid while the other reduced.     


“Look, I’m sorry you thought it wasn’t my place to ask you about Matt, but I’m concerned about you. I was then, and I am now. Jack doesn’t seem himself, and I’m worried about you being alone out in the middle of nowhere.”

Jessa finally stopped what she was doing and turned to face Rey, one gloved fist cocked on her hip. She narrowed her eyes as though estimating something. “You don’t really think our being in Modesto is going to stop me from seeing him, do you?  _ God _ , how are you so--” Jessa broke off and shook her head. 

“How am I so  _ what _ ?” Rey narrowed her own eyes at Jessa. “How am I?” 

“Naive!” Jessa practically yelled it. “I’ll be back here all the time with my family here! Just because we’re moving to the valley doesn’t mean I won’t see Matt, and it’s none of your business what I do with him! What do you care, anyway? You haven’t even been around since the second Ben stepped foot back on land!” 

Rey stabbed her index finger at Jessa now. “This isn’t about Matt at all, is it!? You’re mad at  _ me _ for… for what? For starting to make a life with my husband? Jess, that’s what we talked about wanting the whole time they were gone, or did you already forget that?”

“No!” Jessa finally shouted. “How could I forget, it’s all  _ you _ ever talked about! Sometimes I couldn’t tell which you wanted more, a husband or a father!” 

Rey took a quick step towards Jessa with her open palm raised, but she froze as Jessa’s words sank in.

“I-- what?” Rey spluttered. “That’s not true!”

The anger slid away from Jessa’s features and she shook her head slightly before looking at the linoleum between them. “Your innocence is the thing I love and hate the most about you, do you know that?”

Rey clenched her fist and lowered her arm, squeezing her fist against the side-seam of her coveralls along her thigh. “What is that supposed to mean,” she managed to grit out. The urge to cause Jessa some kind of harm was nearly overwhelming. 

“Rey,” Jessa sounded like she was pleading with her now. “I mean I don’t know how it’s possible that you keep believing the best of people, even after everything you’ve been through. I wish I had your optimism, but sometimes it makes you an easy target, too.” 

“And what is wrong with that?!” Rey demanded. “I’m sorry I must seem...  _ simple _ to you, but I didn’t grow up with the world at my fingertips! I can’t change where I’m from any more than you can!”

“Of course, I know that,” Jessa said to the floor. 

“Well, what then?!” Rey cried. “I miss my parents! You would miss yours, too, if they were gone!”

“Yes!” Jessa retorted. “I would! But didn’t you wonder why someone like Ben would be interested in you at all? Someone you barely knew?”   


“You’ve  _ always _ been on Ben’s side in this,” Rey accused. “And if I recall correctly,  _ you _ were the one who insisted I talk to him! I would’ve been perfectly content to be alone.”

“I’m not on Ben’s side, I’m on yours-- I always have been!” Jessa slapped the toothbrush against the tile for emphasis. “I hate seeing you being hurt by him!” 

“If that were true, you would apologize,” Rey’s lip trembled as she struggled to keep her voice from wobbling. “It is beyond the pale to criticize me now for a decision I made over two years ago, and you know it.”    


“Rey, just go,” Jessa said with a shake of her head. “Ben’s waiting for you, and I don’t think we have any more to say to each other. Our lives are going separate ways now.” 

She could feel her eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears as she reached into her pocket and fished out the key. She slapped it on the tile countertop with a pronounced  _ clink _ .

“Fine,” Rey snapped. “I can’t believe you’re willing to throw away nearly three years of friendship over… over  _ what _ , I’m not really sure, but I won’t keep you any longer.”

Rey picked up her suitcase and marched towards the front door, pausing for a moment. Did she hope Jessa would come after her? The only response from the kitchen was the water running once more and the sound of toothbrush against the tile.

Downstairs on the street, Ben brightened at the sight of her, but immediately darkened when he saw her expression. He crossed the sidewalk to her in two long strides, prying the suitcase from her fingers and taking her hand in his free one.

“Are you alright,” he asked. “You were up there a long time.”

“Jessa was home,” Rey muttered, climbing into the driver’s side and adjusting the seat.

“Oh,” was all Ben said. “Are you alright to drive?” He was still standing next to the truck, his foot up on the runner on the passenger side. 

“Yes!” Rey snapped. “Are you coming or not?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but folded his long limbs in without further comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RogueOneRogueOneRogueOneRogueOne!!!!
> 
> Honestly, this chapter felt kind of like some kind of term paper that was the only thing standing between me and... 
> 
> RogueOneRogueOneRogueOneRogueOne!!!!


	24. Send My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone!

_July 1946_

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Finn asked for at least the fourth time. “I mean… The last time you saw this woman, she probably wanted to kill you, right?”

Rey glared at Finn, but she could not ignore the fluttering in her stomach as they waited for the East Bay express train at the Embarcadero station.

“I think it’s fine,” Rey replied, standing at the edge of the platform to peer around the bend into the darkness of the tunnel. She knew it make Finn nervous, but she didn’t see the headlight or feel the warm gust that pushed out of the darkness ahead of the arriving car. They stood near the end, where Finn would have to sit.

“Seriously,” Finn grabbed her wrist and tugged her gently back behind the yellow safety line. “Don’t fall in there or your husband will kill me himself.”

An older woman standing alone down the platform eyed them suspiciously, and Rey straightened up, standing with her stomach stuck defiantly out in front of her. The woman cast her gaze down, then moved slowly away towards the front of the train. Finn and Rey exchanged a knowing glance. Let her think what she would.

Rey could not disguise her grin as she remarked, “Ben might kill us both when he finds out where we’ve been.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Finn asked, narrowing his eyes.

Rey shrugged and looked down the track once more. “It depends. I haven’t decided yet.”

“What does it depend on?”

Rey paused. It had been on the tip of her tongue numerous times in the past several weeks, but she had always managed to keep Evelyn’s confidence as the other woman had requested. She was hard-pressed to explain to her friend the odd loyalty she felt towards her; by all rights she probably should have told Ben about the letter and their meeting.

It wasn’t that she felt there was a score to settle, but it almost felt good to have a secret from him. She was an independent creature, and could see whomever she wanted. That included Ben’s ex.

“Rey?” Finn’s voice broke her reverie. “You in there?”

“Sorry,” Rey said, rubbing her distended middle through her long shirt. She had given up on wearing overalls just to sit at the desk at work, opting now for used oversized shirts from the resale store and men’s pants cuffed deeply until she could get around to cutting off the excess and hemming them for her shorter legs. Ben had teased her that she cut a mean silhouette as a hobo. She knew they made clothing specifically for expecting women, but it seemed a waste of their scant income to buy things she’d only wear for a few months.

“Sorry,” she repeated. “It just depends how things go today, I suppose.”

Just then, they both felt the warm, oily-smelling breeze begin to exhale from the dark tunnel, and Rey spied the headlight from their train beginning to glow down the tracks. They stepped well behind the yellow line as the cars came flying into the station, screeching and rattling as the engineer applied the brake and the conductor hung out the open door of the front car.

“All aboard!” He bellowed. “East Bay train, East Bay! Stops at the island, West Oakland, Emeryville depot, San Pablo & University, University campus! This is an express, train does not make all stops!”

“See you on the other side, Momma,” Finn grinned as he climbed into the colored car. Rey nodded as she took up her spot at the back of the rearmost car, where she could see through to Finn’s.

They were just past the island stop when the cloud cover began to break up, and Rey looked out towards the eastern hills. The university campus was clearly visible from across the water, its slender, white stone carillon tower thrusting proudly up from the hillside. Further up the hill, the brilliant glow of the Claremont Hotel marked the edge of the upper-crust neighborhood that dotted area. Rey could only guess at what the guests who stayed there did. She closed her eyes as a cool breeze swept into the car through an open window, imagining sweating glasses of iced tea and the muted _thwap_ of tennis balls against the courts under the peeling eucalyptus trees.

By the time they exited the train at the campus stop, it had become full summer. They paused in the shade of a bottlebrush tree to shed their city layers before proceeding to the business district across the corner of campus.

“What will you do while I’m meeting Evelyn?” Rey had not considered how Finn might occupy himself until just now.

“That depends,” Finn said mischievously. Rey gave him a withering look. “I’ll stay close by, but there’s a music shop down the street a block, and I promised those cats I’d say hello if I was ever in the area.”

“Just go,” Rey insisted. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“Nuh-uh, child!” Finn shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not leaving you alone with the Wicked Witch until I lay eyes on her.”

“Well, she looks more like the Good Witch of the North,” Rey mumbled, waiting for the streetlight to change. A hoard of young, neatly-dressed students surrounded them, chattering excitedly about all manners of things, and they traipsed as one unit across the street.

“I should go to college,” Finn said under his breath. “So many young men!”

Rey giggled and they nearly passed the cafe before she recognized the name on the door. “Oh,” she stopped Finn with a hand on his forearm. “This is it.”

“What do we do now,” Finn wondered. They stood outside the door, peering in through the glistening glass windows.

“Um…” Rey clutched her scarf between her hands. “I guess we go in?” She could see her reflection clearly in the cafe door’s window, and suddenly felt as nervous as she had when she’d opened Evelyn’s letter. Her mirror image looked like nothing so much as Chaplin’s tramp character, the trousers obscuring her shapely legs but tapering to her ankles, and the shirt gaping almost obscenely over her swollen stomach. Rey made a mental note to take this particular shirt out of the rotation as soon as she reached home. Before she could lose her nerve, she reached for the brass handle and jerked the door open for them.

Inside, their eyes struggled to adjust to the indoor lighting, but just as Rey’s began to clear she heard her name distinctly over the din of the other diners and the clink of silverware on china.

“Rey? Rey!”

She finally caught sight of Evelyn waving from a booth near the back. She raised her hand in recognition, realizing she might not have recognized Evelyn after all. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun at the nape of her neck, and she was wearing glasses that obscured her wide-set eyes.

“I thought you said she looked like the Good Witch,” Finn muttered as Evelyn rose and wound her way delicately through the tables towards them. She was wearing wide-legged trousers and a creamy colored, short-sleeved blouse. “She looks like a teacher.”

“She _is_ a teacher,” Rey hissed. “Shhh!”

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Evelyn smiled upon reaching them. “I’m Evelyn Snoke,” she thrust her hand at Finn without hesitation.

“Finn,” he replied, not elaborating for her, but grasping her hand in return. “Well, ah… I’ll leave you ladies to things. The music shop is called Moe’s, if you want to come find me,” he said to Rey. She nodded and smiled as he backed away, then turned to exit.

“That’s my friend,” Rey explained without being asked. “He wanted to come along to visit this shop down the way.”

“Of course,” Evelyn nodded, and Rey could tell from her shy smile that she wasn’t fooled by the pretense. “They seated me in the back, if that’s alright?”

“I see that,” Rey nodded. “Shall we?”

She followed Evelyn as closely as she could, but the closeness of the tables necessitating taking a circuitous route so as not to brush her stomach against the arms of the other patrons. She squeezed into the booth across from her companion, tucking her scarf and coat alongside her to the inside.

To Rey’s surprise, Evelyn was sitting a bit hunched over, her hands beneath her thighs in a crouch that seemed almost childlike. Her hand shot up once to push her glasses up her nose and returned to its hiding place immediately. Rey had no choice but to sit up straight; the table was tight enough to the booth’s bench that her belly just brushed the edge of it.

“So,” Rey began hesitantly, folding her hands carefully in front of her on the table in an effort not to touch her stomach.

“So,” Evelyn breathed. “Would you like something to drink? I already had a tea while I was waiting.”

“Oh!” Rey exclaimed. “Were we late? It’s hard to predict on the streetcar, I--”

“No, not at all,” Evelyn reassured her. “I snuck away early from a session that was duller than dirt. It seemed more productive to come here and read something for my own work.”

“How is the conference?” Rey asked. She wasn’t exactly sure what one did at an academic conference, and she didn’t want to risk giving herself away by asking Ben.

“It’s…” Evelyn pursed her lips and trailed off, her eyes narrowed at an indistinct point behind Rey in the dining room. “It’s a long way to come to listen to people read papers they’ve already published,” she finally judged. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I know you must be very busy with….” She gestured vaguely at Rey’s person.

“Of course,” Rey nodded. “After you’ve traveled all this way…”

The two women exchanged tight-lipped smiles. The waiter approached the table and Rey ordered a glass of iced tea.

“I didn’t tell Ben you were coming,” Rey spoke first.

Evelyn nodded and sipped at her own drink. “Thank you for not giving me away,” she said earnestly. “I think it’s for the best.”

Rey nodded and stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea when it arrived.

“Leia told me you were expecting,” Evelyn ventured a half-smile. “Congratulations to you both.”

Rey blushed and stirred vigorously, trying the break up the crystalline lump that had formed in the bottom. “Thank you,” she replied at last. “I wasn’t sure if you knew, or if Leia was telling people there.”

“A reasonable question,” Evelyn chuckled, playing with the handle of her teacup. “She’s very excited, but you probably knew that.” Her other hand remained firmly tucked beneath her leg. “Are you… feeling well?”

Rey took a deep breath and forced herself to place the spoon delicately on the saucer before answering. This seemed like a loaded line of questioning.

“Mostly,” Rey said cautiously. “It feels like it’s going on forever. It’s still several months away, but it feels like I’ve been waiting for years already.”

“I can imagine,” Evelyn sympathized. Rey glanced up at her and was surprised to find the other woman’s face open, and her green eyes crinkled at the corners.

“It’s just… a lot to think about with work, and school,” Rey continued hesitantly. “I’m not allowed to really work any more, so I feel kind of useless. I’ve always had work to keep me busy, and school is… different.”

Evelyn nodded, tracing her index finger around the lip of her cup. She didn’t comment on Rey’s assertions. Instead, she only remarked, “Leia mentioned you were starting classes. Do you know what you want to study?”

Rey sipped her tea. She felt cautious about telling people this detail. “I’d like to do engineering,” she ventured.

Evelyn’s eyes widened at this and she exclaimed, “That’s…. wonderful-- and hard, from what I understand. I’m not very good with mathematics, that’s partly why I chose literature.”

“You think so?” Rey cocked her head to one side. “It just makes sense to me, somehow. I don’t think my classmates like that very well,” she laughed dryly. 

“Ah,” Evelyn drew out the syllable knowingly and nodded at her tea cup. “They’re men, aren’t they?”

“They’re--” Rey broke off, considering. “Yes, they are.” Suddenly she realizing what Evelyn was getting at. “It’s a real boys’ club, I suppose.”

Evelyn clucked her tongue and said softly, “It seems that we’re not so different in that way, then, are we?”

Rey tucked her chin and traced a bead of condensation down the side of her glass. “It is a man’s world, isn’t it?” she said with a trace of realization. “Even literature?”

“Oh, most certainly,” Evelyn laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “I was once asked to leave a faculty meeting for insisting we add a few women authors to an introductory course syllabus. Obviously,” her sarcasm lengthened the word to a comedic drawl, “Freshmen men have no interest in women whatsoever.”

Rey couldn’t help but giggle at the obvious irony. “No, none at all,” she grinned. “Do you think it will get better?”

“I do,” Evelyn replied earnestly, nodding with her pointy chin thrust defiantly out. “It’s already so much better than when our mothers’ generation was our age, right? It has to get better.”

Rey was quiet at the thought of her mother. She wondered what she would say, if she could see her daughter now: grown up, so far from home, starting her own family.

“Leia has always been very encouraging towards me in that way,” Evelyn continued stridently. “She believes very strongly in education, in the power of knowledge.”

“You’re right,” Rey nodded in agreement. Leia had sounded overjoyed when she’d mentioned starting classes. In fact, Rey had felt like her mother-in-law might have been more excited about her schooling than the grandchild she was currently incubating.

Evelyn finally raised her other hand from beneath her leg and wrapped both hands around her teacup.

It was then Rey saw she was wearing a ring on her left hand with several sizeable white stones set into the bright gold of the band.

“Are you… engaged?” Rey’s eyes widened incredulously as the sight of the ring registered. She immediately wondered if Ben knew.

“Oh!” Evelyn’s blush filled in her pale cheeks between her freckles. “Um, yes -- it was quite recently, actually.” She seemed more embarrassed than happy.

“Well-- congratulations!” Rey exclaimed. “Who is he?”

“It’s strange….” Evelyn twisted the ring nervously with her other hand. “He-- his father’s business donated a large sum of money to the university,” she explained. “Their company researches and produces drugs-- the kind a pharmacist makes. They offered funding for several endowments to expand the scientific programs at the university.”

Rey recalled Chancellor Snoke’s dinnertime remarks on seeking funding from businesses. Evelyn narrowed her eyes in consideration before continuing.

“We’re very… different from one another,” she seemed to choose her words carefully. “Richard’s family has always had money. He went to school back east at a boarding preparatory before going to Yale. But, he never wanted to have anything to do with academia,” she smiled wryly at her cup. “Until now, that is. Their name is going to be on a science library they’re paying for.”

“That must be nice,” Rey demurred.

“Richard is… a man’s man,” Evelyn concluded with a small shake of her head, but she was smiling. “I imagine we’ll both be very busy with our respective careers.”

“So you’ll stay at the university, then?”

“For now,” Evelyn confirmed. “We’re set to be married in early September, and the semester begins right afterwards. We’ll do our honeymoon later, maybe at Christmas? Richard’s family has a house in Nova Scotia, so we might do a tour of eastern Canada.”

“That sounds lovely,” Rey concurred.

“Rey,” Evelyn suddenly sat up straight and pushed her glasses up her nose once more. “I know I wrote you this, but I wanted to say again how… sorry I am for how I acted when we met last fall. I feel ridiculous for how I treated you, and I hope you can accept my apology.”

Rey breathed deeply and couldn’t help but lace her fingers over her stomach. She felt the stone again, tiny but hard in her middle. She hated its stubborn presence. She had ascribed it to so many things: first Leia, then Ben, Matt, eventually Jessa, but she knew, she knew by how she felt it now that it was this was its root cause. The murmur of the cafe around her, the clink of silverware against the china and the shuffling of the other patrons’ feet, suddenly seemed very loud as Evelyn awaited her answer.

“Thank you,” Rey croaked, finding a lump in her throat that caused her voice to crack a bit. “I appreciate that.”

Evelyn sighed heavily. “Thank goodness,” she breathed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, honestly. It’s been nagging me for months.”

“And I’m sorry, too,” Rey admitted. “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to be in your position.”

Evelyn’s lips pressed into a thin line and she shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Rey.”

“Do you want me to tell Ben about….” Rey gestured towards Evelyn’s hand where she gripped the cup. “Richard?”

Evelyn frowned for a split second before she laughed. “That’s up to you. Leia might have already told him, for all I know. But… I’ll leave it up to your judgement.”

“Okay,” Rey agreed. If Ben knew, he had been careful not to mention it. After their fight in the park, he had not brought Evelyn up to her once, leaving it to her to broach the topic if, and when, she felt like it.

“Is--” Evelyn broke off, looking a touch embarrassed. “How is he?”

“Busy,” Rey replied honestly. “He has another course now for the summer semester, so he’s got a lot more grading to do. But, I’m busy too, so I guess it’s fine.”

“Busy is good, though-- having more to teach is a good sign. And his thesis is…?”

“Are you asking, or is Leia?” Rey’s smile crinkled her eyes. The last time they’d spoken to Han and Leia, he’d hung up after a curt conversation with his mother that Rey knew to be about his unfinished work.

“Yes,” Evelyn laughed. “No, I’m asking for myself-- I miss his friendship, knowing what’s going on with him.”

“It’s going slowly,” Rey judged. “But-- I don’t know how long these things take, honestly?”

“It can be slow,” Evelyn confirmed, then added slyly, “Nor is Ben is the most diligent writer, if we’re being honest.”

Rey laughed at this. “You’re right, I think he prefers teaching to writing any day.”

Evelyn glanced at the clock above the lunch counter in the cafe and her eyebrows shot towards her red hair. “Oh, sugar!” she swore demurely. “Rey, I was meant to co-present a paper with a colleague ten minutes ago!”

“Well--” Rey reached out her hand and pressed it on Evelyn’s briefly. “Please, don’t be late on my account. I’m glad to see you, and best of luck with Richard.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Evelyn looked overcome with relief. “I’m sorry to run away like this, but don’t be a stranger, alright? Chances are good we’ll see one another again.”

“Never tell me the odds,” Rey cracked, and Evelyn grinned in recognition of the quip.

“I’ll tell Han hello for you when I see him next,” Evelyn promised, smoothing her trousers down her legs as she stood beside the booth, reaching for her leather satchel.

“Thanks,” Rey fiddled with the tea spoon. “Travel safely.”

“I will,” Evelyn squeezed her shoulder quickly. “You too.”

* * *

 

Finn departed the streetcar at his stop, waving to her through the front window of his car before setting off up the street with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets against the breeze that had blown up off the ocean.

Alone in her car, Rey stared absently out the window at the rowhouses settling in for the night, lights beginning to glow in sitting rooms and kitchens across the city. Finn hadn’t pressed her for a decision about whether she would tell Ben where they’d really been, and even now, she felt conflicted about it.

She had the sense, from talking to the few other women she knew well from the doctor’s, that Ben was unusually lenient in how much say he had in her activities. He did not police her comings and goings the way some husbands did, nor did she keep tabs on his every move. Frankly, it would’ve been impossible. Each of their schedules had them here, there, and everywhere most days of the week at work, school, and her increasingly-frequent medical appointments. Rey couldn’t imagine it any other way, but she knew from the sideways looks she received in the waiting room that this was not exactly normal. The men were home from war now, and a good many people seemed to want things to go back to exactly how they’d been before. 

That was not a world Rey wanted to live in, she’d decided.

On the other hand, Rey only had to close her eyes and let her body follow the motion of the trolley to recall how hurt she’d been that he had kept a secret from her. The memory of how she’d felt standing on the creekbank over him still caused a hot ball of tension to glow in her middle. While they had never explicitly discussed it, she assumed they were basically truthful with one another now.

She exited the streetcar and walked slowly up the hill to their duplex, still conflicted over what to say when she saw him. It seemed easy to decide she’d keep her secret while she was alone, but then she pictured his soft, brown eyes and had to stuff down the nerves that arose at the thought of looking into them and lying.

She paused mid-way up the hill to catch her breath, waving to their Chinese neighbor through the window.    

The radio was playing low in the living room when Rey finally reached home at half-past six that evening. There was still plenty of summer daylight outside, but the marine clouds obscured what they might have seen of the sunset.

“Is that you?” Ben called from his desk around the corner in the alcove they jokingly called the study between the living room and the dining room. It looked like a closet from which a previous tenant had removed the door to make a nook.

“No, it’s Bigfoot,” Rey repeated their joke by wrote. She slipped off her shoes near the door and padded softly to him.

“Hey,” Ben laid down his pen and stretched backwards, pulling her towards him by her upper arms and looking up at her, upside-down. “You’re late today. Slow transit?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she murmured against his lips, backwards from hers. “Slow.”

“Everything’s alright, then? I was getting worried that it took so long.”

She stared at him for a moment, and decided not to tell him. “We’re fine,” she answered and kissed him again, languidly.

He pecked her nose as she withdrew and bent back over the papers spread over his desk.

“Grading?”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “I need to stop assigning so many writing tasks. It’s… brutal.”

Rey smoothed her palms on his shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss behind his ear. “Maybe you should take a break?”

There was a long pause where his pen didn’t move. “Do you want….” he trailed off. “To take a nap before dinner?”

Rey smiled against his hair. “I might lie down for a bit.”

“I need to finish these,” Ben continued writing a note in the margin of one student’s paper. “You go ahead.”

Rey rolled her eyes behind his head at this pretense, but said, “Alright. You know where to find me.”

She lay atop the covers in their dark bedroom, her head propped up on her crooked elbow. She was nearly about to drift off when she heard his chair scrape the floor in the living room and his footsteps enter the back hallway.

“You’re right,” he said as he appeared in the doorway, “I need a break.” 

“This shirt is too small already,” Rey replied. “I just got it, too.”

“Maybe you should take it off, then,” his voice was husky. 

“Maybe  _ you _ should,” she whispered. 

Her stomach fluttered nervously as he crossed the room slowly to the bed. 

Ben knelt over her without a word, grasping the shirt tails and slowly undoing the buttons from bottom to midway up her torso. He smoothed his hands under the material, his fingers forming a web over her swollen middle and his thumbs tracing the line from her belly button downwards. Rey shuddered when his thumbs brushed the button of her pants and squirmed under him, feeling the telltale heat beginning to build between her legs. 

The leather belt she cinched around her hips below her belly to hold up the pants squeaked as he undid it, the buckle making a dull thud when he pulled it from the belt loops and dropped it unceremoniously on the rug next to the bed. She gasped to feel the cool air on her lower half as he stripped her in one sharp jerk and pushed her knees apart, settled between her legs on his elbows and tracing the seam of her body with his thumb. 

She couldn’t see his head around her stomach anymore, but she felt his nose brush her a second before his tongue flicked out and he crushed his mouth against her throbbing folds. His ferocity surprised her, and she stifled her moans in his pillow beside her face. His fingers invaded her a moment later, stroking and prodding her core, and Rey bent one knee up to give him more leeway. He hummed at the change in angle, the vibration tickling her clit in a way that felt dangerous. 

“Oh,  _ oh _ !” she gasped, “Ben, no-- not yet, please!”

He withdrew abruptly and reared back on his haunches, looking down at her and breathing a bit hard. His hand felt heavy on her knee when he said, “Get on your knees for me.”

“Take your pants off,” Rey countered, propping herself up on her elbows so she could see better. 

He complied, but slowly: unbuttoning his trousers, then reaching up to flick open another button on her shirt before easing his zipper down over his erection, dipping his fingers in her slippery folds and licking them clean. He pushed her knees to one side to try to turn her but she stubbornly resisted, shaking her head at him. He finally shucked his pants and she hummed with delight to see his cock bob free as the waistband caught caught the head before the garment pooled around his knees. 

He palmed his hardened length as he looked down at her, and a bolt of lust shot down her midline at the thought of him inside her. 

She turned around slowly and rested on her knees, unbuttoning the rest of her top. He cupped her tits through her bra as she struggled with the clasp behind her back. He was practically panting in her ear as the material went slack and his fingers slipped underneath, covering her chest and plucking at her already-pebbled nipples. They were already terribly sensitive and slightly swollen, and the pressure of his hands was both arousing and somewhat uncomfortable. Rey shivered with desire as his cock nestled in the cleft of her ass, and she leaned forwards on all fours, forcing him to lean over her to continue touching her chest. 

She wriggled her hips teasingly back against his, and he rewarded her with a firm hand between her shoulderblades, pressing her chest down to the bed. She gasped as she turned her face to the side, her cheek flush on the cool spot beneath her pillow. It felt indecent to be so vulnerable like this, her arms squeezing her pillow to her and her distended belly brushing the bed. 

Ben ground against her, slicking his manhood on her before grabbing her hip and pressing slowly, mercilessly into her. His other hand rubbed up the length of her spine, tangling in her hair and pushing her head firmly against the mattress. 

Rey’s eyes fluttered closed and she breathed raggedly through her open mouth. If her hips had felt full already, she felt close to bursting with him in her this way. She drew a shuddering breath when he eased up on her momentarily, only to bear down again and make what felt like circles with his hips. She could feel him rubbing a spot high inside her, and she knew neither of them could ever last long like this. When he released her head to grasp both sides of her hips and work her back against him, she turned her face to her pillow to muffle her keening. She clenched and bucked her hips forwards against the pressure of his hands, but he held her tight and groaned something between her name and profanity. His hips were flush against her bottom, and she could feel a light sweat on her lower back from the effort of holding herself inverted for him. 

His right hand left her hip to squeeze her upturned rear deliciously, almost painfully hard, and Rey collapsed forwards with her shoulder against the bed, biting down on the corner of the pillow as she came, dizzy from the blood in her head. It seemed to last for hours, wave after wave traveling up her lower spine, down her inner thighs, fluttering her cunt stretched tight around him. She felt boneless and was dimly aware of him thrusting a few more futile times before letting himself fill her with his seed. She didn’t have to see him to hear how he fought to stay quiet, exhaling hard through his nostrils before he finally collapsed over her, rolling them to the side and tucking her into the curve of his body in an exhausted heap.

His breath was loud against her neck as their breathing slowed, and Rey continued hugging the pillow to her chest for warmth. She was cooling rapidly despite his body beside her, and shivered slightly in the chill of the room. 

They lay for a long while without speaking, just listening to the foghorns sounding in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No lie, I started singing, "It's the final smut-down!" to the tune of _The Final Countdown_ last evening as I was writing this!
> 
> I hope you are all enjoying happy holidays, wherever you are! I am looking out at fresh, magical snowfall (it's only magical because we have yet to shovel, when it will become *#*!!*&*^ snow!) from where I'm celebrating Christmakkah, but slightly missing the sound of foghorns in San Francisco. ;)


	25. If You're Going to San Francisco

_October 1997_

“Nanna? Nanna, over here!”

The excited voice reached Rey over the din of passengers and the train leaving the station, and she finally picked her granddaughter out of the crowd on the platform, coming towards her at fast clip.

The girl had Ben’s long legs, Rey thought, as she leaned over her grandmother and crushed her in a hug.

“Ooof,” Rey huffed, clapping her on the back. “Gentle now, you don’t want to break me!”

“Sorry,” she muttered against Rey’s shoulder before straightening back to her full height. Her green eyes glittered behind her round, wire-framed glasses, and she brushed one stubborn lock of dark, wavy hair behind her ear. “I’m just so glad to see you!”

“And you as well,” Rey smiled up at her. “You look good! How are you liking Berkeley?”

“Oh,” Katherine made a waffling gesture with her hand. “It’s different, but… I’m settling in, I guess. It’s really different here from Chicago. The people, the climate-- everything. But I’ll find my way.”

“And are your classes going well?” Rey asked as they ambled towards the stairs up to the street.

“I love it,” Katherine gushed. “It’s a great program for environmental science.”

Rey couldn’t help but smile at her granddaughter’s enthusiasm. It was nice to share her annual pilgrimage to the area with someone, especially since Ben was getting too old to accompany her such a great distance. Indeed, she felt her own age as they clambered up the steps of the station to the street level.

“How’s Grandpa doing?” Katherine looked very serious for a moment as she pushed her glasses up her nose.

“Oh,” Rey waved her hand dismissively. “He says hello, but he’s tired a lot these days. You know.”

“Well, yeah,” Katherine chuckled. “He’s what, 82 now?”

“Almost,” Rey confirmed.

“Did you write your letter for the project I told you about?” Katherine asked.

Rey hesitated. “I did.” She had struggled through several drafts at the hotel the previous night, trying to decide what to include.

“Well….” Katherine paused, no doubt seeing the look on her face. “Did you want to do that first, or…?”

“Let’s do that last,” Rey tipped her chin up and hitched her purse higher on her shoulder. “End on a good note.” She forced herself to smile around the lump that was forming in her throat.

“Alright,” Katherine smiled back, but Rey could detect a note of sadness behind her hazel eyes. “Let’s go.”

* * *

They stood quietly in the shade of a eucalyptus tree, staring solemnly at the stone. Rey could repeat it by heart, she’d visited it so many times.

“I wish I had known him,” Katherine remarked. “He was younger than I am, now.”

Rey bowed her head and closed her eyes as her chin touched her sternum. “You would’ve loved him.”

Katherine took a half-step forwards and placed the bouquet they’d bought at the florist atop the stone, tracing the engraving on it lightly with her fingers as she straightened back up.

_William Hansel Solo_

_Beloved son & brother _

_1950-1969_

Of their three children, her middle boy had been the most like her: quiet, but determined, a natural with mechanics from the time he’d laid on the rug in her office and built towers with blocks as she drafted schematics. More fluid with numbers than words, he had talked late, so much so that they had feared he was handicapped, until he surprised them by speaking in nearly full sentences.

Katherine’s mother, their eldest, had doted on him as though he were her own child, lessening Rey’s vague guilt at continuing to pursue her own work as they grew up. She had never done anything _but_ work, couldn’t imagine staying home with them as many of their friends’ mothers had done.   

She could still see them all seated around the dining table the evening he’d told them he’d enlisted, choosing to delay his studies in favor of the war. William had crossed his arms and listened, his head cocked to one side as Ben had raged at him about the immorality of the conflict, about throwing his future away, about being a tool of the industrial-military complex. Anna and Owen had looked back and forth between them anxiously, as if watching a tennis match.

When Ben paused to draw a breath, he had simply said, “I bet that’s not what you told Grandma when you enlisted.”

“Nanna, are you alright?” Katherine drew her close with an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh,” Rey sniffed, “I’m fine. Just remembering.”

Katherine was quiet for a moment, rubbing her hand up and down Rey’s upper arm.

“Let’s go see your art project,” Rey suggested, looking up at her granddaughter.

* * *

 

The fencing along the small park near the harbor in Richmond was littered with ribbons and envelopes. They strolled along it, pausing to look at the photographs some women had left in Ziplocs to protect them from the elements.  A bulletin board with the plans for the monument to honor the riveters was displayed under a pavilion, but even it showed signs of being out in the salt air for too long. A metal box with a slot cut into the top sat nearby, ready to collect the memories from women who had worked there.

Rey wondered briefly how many of them were even still alive.

“You all look so young,” Katherine marveled, tracing the face of one woman through the plastic. “How old were you again?”

Rey paused, thinking of the summary she had composed. Her letter was written on hotel stationary in an envelope, hidden in her purse.

_I was 17 in 1942, and heard they needed workers in San Francisco._

“I was a kid,” she replied plainly. “I had the courage of ignorance on my side.”

“And you had never been here, right?” Katherine prompted her, obviously wanting her to tell the story one more time.

_My family came to California from Oklahoma during the Depression, and I left them behind in Bakersfield to start over on my own._

“No, I had never been anywhere,” Rey admitted. “We were dirt poor, and people didn’t travel so much in those days.”

They strolled a little further before Katherine remarked, “You worked here even while Grandpa was in the Pacific?”

_From 1942-45, I worked in Kaiser Shipyard No. 2._

“Yes, that’s right,” Rey said. “They paid well, and there weren’t enough men left to do the work. And….” she trailed off. “I wasn’t sure Grandpa would make it back. I had to take care of myself.”

Katherine smiled knowingly. “But you hoped he did, obviously. I’ve seen your old pictures-- he was a handsome young devil.”

Rey laughed. “He still is,” she replied. “I thought men weren’t your type.”

“They’re not,” Katherine confirmed with a wry grin, “But I can still appreciate.”

They settled onto a park bench, facing towards the water. Rey squinted into the sunshine reflecting off the water, gazing out at a far point beyond the swooping outline of the Golden Gate bridge.

“Do you regret leaving here?” Katherine asked softly. “It seems so different from where you ended up.”

“No,” Rey said without hesitation. “We did what we had to-- it was the right thing to be near your great-grandparents and Great Uncle Luke as they got on in years.”

Her granddaughter nodded silently, her fingers folded over her crossed knee.

Rey reached into her bag and withdrew the envelope, extending it towards Katherine.

“Would you put it in the box for me, sweetheart?” Rey asked. “My legs are feeling tired.”

Katherine grasped it gently and stood, her shadow shielding Rey from the late afternoon sun for a moment. “Of course, Nanna. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” Rey replied, closing her eyes and tilting back her head to catch the warmth.

_The song says “I left my heart in San Francisco”, but I found mine here; I met my best friends, became a wife, a mother and an engineer here, and I will carry those memories with me no matter where I go._

* * *

**_-Right When I Arrive-_ **

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, there aren't enough words to say how pleased and humbled I've been to have all you lovely readers following RWIA for the past 5.5 months. To think, this started out in late June as a short, sweet reunion-smut fic! It was supposed to end after about 4 chapters! 
> 
> But I've had such fun escaping to this world, and I have been truly blessed to have all your kudos, comments, rants, gifs, questions and more through what has been a very trying time in life, and for the world. RIP, Carrie Fisher & Debbie Reynolds. 
> 
> The Rosie the Riveter monument wasn't erected in Richmond, CA, until the very late 1990's. You can't see it well in [these pictures](http://www.rosietheriveter.org/visit-discover/park-sites/item/47-rosie-the-riveter-memorial%0A), but the sidewalk and the monument is engraved with quotes from various women who worked at the shipyards building battleships for the Pacific front. 
> 
> Finally, a huge thanks is due to my cousin S., without whose sage input this fic might have been very different at key points, and who encouraged me to continue it past my initial concept to a full historical smut. :)


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